


Phantom Pains

by Silverskye13



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Sans, Bad Puns, Basically It's All Gonna Go To Shit Eventually, But All the Good Stories Do Right?, Depressed Sans?, Genocide Route, Get Settled in for a long ride kiddos, Get's Kinda Dark I Guess, Help I don't know what to tag stuff as, I Can't Even Puns, Mild Torture...?, Other, Probably Not Enough Puns Actually, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts/Actions, We Might Be Here A While, Worst Puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 88,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5760721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverskye13/pseuds/Silverskye13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While nobody can truly remember the resets, bits and pieces of them still remain in the little details of their lives. Strange dreams. Feelings of deja-vu. Short stutters of time. But sometimes what the mind can't begin to comprehend, the body remembers with full clarity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Well Everything SEEMS Normal Anyway

Sans had been pacing for what felt like hours. The rhythmic shuffling of his slippers hitting the floor was the only thing he allowed to break the silence of the house. Any other noise might make him have a panic attack at this point. It was all he could do to concentrate on his steps. 

_ Shff shff shff shff! _

He forced himself to breathe with them. In on the first step, hold on the second step, out on the third step, hold on the fourth step. In. Stop. Out. Stop. In. Stop. Out. Stop. It gave him something to concentrate on when his thoughts started swimming too much. 

He hated it when Papyrus did this - came home late from practice. He hadn’t answered his phone in hours, and neither had Undyne. It was dark outside, they had no reason to still be practicing - though he supposed it was always pretty dark in waterfall. If they didn’t pay attention to the time they’d never really know it had gotten so late. But they should still know time had passed, too much time had passed. differencethis wasn’t the first time Papyrus had come home late - though this was definitely the latest he’d ever been. But the fact that he wasn’t answering his phone made Sans think something was wrong - horribly wrong. A feeling of dread and foreboding crept down the back of his skull, making his spine crawl as if he were covered in spiders. Or maybe that was just his nervous sweat. His hands shook even as he wrung them together, every piece of his body a fidgeting, nervous mess. 

Logic told him he had no reason to be this upset. Nothing ever changed in the underground - being hit by a cave in or falling stalactite was as likely as finding a human. And while crime was possible most monsters were too busy dealing with their own problems to cause them for others. The news was always calm, the most noteworthy things to happen were lost pets and the occasional bit of vandalism that the punks in Snowdin forest managed to cook up. 

And suppose that one in a million chance happened that someone tried to hurt Papyrus? Well his brother was strong. Strong enough to train with the Captain of the Royal Guard! And while kind hearted and a bit naive, Papyrus was still more than capable of defending himself. 

Logically, there was no reason for Sans to be this terrified. In fact, there was no reason for him to worry at all.

But what he was feeling now was anything but logical. Crippling anxiety, borderline paranoia, bone-shaking terror. He could reason himself through it all he wanted, it still ended the same. Something terrible  _ must  _ have happened. Papyrus was either dusted or dying. He hadn’t been there to protect him. Hadn’t been there to shield his brother with his own meager HP. To stop an attack with his own fragile bones. He was so sure,  _ so sure _ his brother was dead. So sure that he was too terrified to go outside, to look for him, to confirm his worst fears. Every time he reached for the door he shook so much his bones rattled. His breathing hitched in his throat, his chest got tight.

A knock suddenly sounded at the door, startling Sans so much he let out a shriek. He was breathing twice as fast as his own footsteps. His vision suddenly pitched, and he realized he’d managed to trip over his feet. 

“BROTHER? IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT IN THERE?”

“Y-yeah dude,” his voice was hoarse with relief as he nearly leaped for the door, “Everything’s fine!”

It took everything he had to cross to the door slowly, concentrating hard on smoothing down his breathing and frantic heartbeat. The pin pricks up his spine were still there, but relief was already starting to wash over him.

As casually as he could manage, Sans opened the door.

“T-took you long enough, bro.”

Papyrus loomed over Sans, nearly twice his height. He rubbed the back of his head somewhat embarrassedly, a grin plastered across his features, “INDEED! I WAS QUITE UNABLE TO LEAVE AT THE REGULAR TIME. UNDYNE NEEDED SOME ASSISTANCE!”

Sans stepped aside, letting his brother into the house. He couldn’t help the bitterness that glanced across his voice, “Still could’ve answered your phone, dude. You had me… uh…” his mind worked shakily for a second, “... uh… totally  _ rattled _ ?”

Worst pun ever.

Sans frowned, watching a shadow pass over his brother’s normally enthusiastic face. He made no comment about the pun whatsoever. The familiar tightness worked its way back into Sans’ chest.

“Uh… bro…?”

“YES, MY PHONE DIED WHILE AT PRACTICE,” he fidgeted a bit with his hands, “I REALLY DO APOLOGIZE SANS, I KNOW YOU WORRY GREATLY. ITS JUST… WELL…”

Sans attempted to keep his features worked into a lazy smile, but his nearly abated panic was slowly growing again. This wasn’t like his brother at all.

“S-something happen at practice?”

Papyrus sighed, “SORRY, I DON’T WANT TO WORRY YOU FURTHER. BUT I SUPPOSE YOU SHOULD KNOW…” Papyrus took another breath as if to prepare himself, “UNDYNE COLLAPSED AT PRACTICE TODAY.”

Sans’ breath caught in his throat, and though he tried to keep his face steady, something in his expression must’ve broke. Papyrus brought a hand up, a look of concern etching its way through his features.

“WAIT WAIT! DON’T WORRY, SHE’S FINE NOW! THERE’S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT-.”

“Why did she  _ collapse _ ?!” Sans exclaimed, exasperation and panic making it’s way into his shuddering voice, “She’s  _ Undyne! _ That doesn’t just  _ happen _ to someone like her!”

“BROTHER CALM YOURSELF,” Papyrus sighed, “I REALIZE IT IS VERY SHOCKING, BUT YOU MUST UNDERSTAND, SHE IS PERFECTLY FINE NOW.”

Sans took a breath and held it, counting slowly to ten, practically willing his heart to slow its frenetic beating. So something  _ had  _ gone wrong. Not what he’d expected, but for once his panic actually meant something. He couldn’t stand it. Finally he let out his held breath and took a few deliberately slow gulps of air. Breathe.  _ Breathe.  _

“ _ What happened? _ ”

Papyrus gazed down at his brother, gauging to see if he was really calm enough to continue. Though he supposed leaving the conversation as it was now would only make him worry more. He never did quite understand why his brother worried so much - and he wondered if even Sans himself knew. But there was no helping it. All the reassurance and inspiring confidence in the world couldn’t convince his brother that he had no reason to fear. Papyrus absently wondered if it had something to do with how weak his brother was. Surely a monster with such low attack and defence would find the world a very terrifying place. Though Sans made no move to change any of this on his own.

“WELL WE WERE POUNDING THE TOMATOES FOR A MOST FABULOUS SPAGHETTI,” Papyrus began, throwing a bit more confidence back into his voice, “AND IT WAS ACTUALLY TURNING OUT QUITE WELL! I HADN’T EVEN BURNT ANY OF THE INGREDIENTS YET.”

Sans did his equivalent to raising an eyebrow at his brother. He was clasping his hands in his hoodie pocket to keep them from visibly shaking. 

Papyrus sighed, “WELL… THAT WAS WHEN SHE… COLLAPSED. ONE MINUTE SHE WAS COACHING ME AND THE NEXT.... SHE JUST… HUGGED HERSELF AND FELL OVER. IT WAS QUITE TROUBLING. SHE DIDN’T CRY OUT, BUT I COULD TELL SHE WAS IN IMMENSE PAIN. IT WAS ALL I COULD DO TO HELP HER INTO HER ROOM AND KEEP HER CALM. NYEH HEH… MY PRACTICE WITH YOU CAME IN HANDY, IT SEEMS.”

Sans nodded quietly, his gaze shifting to stare at the floor thoughtfully.

“I GAVE HER WATER AND HAD HER LAY DOWN. SHE SAID IT WAS HER CHEST THAT HURT, THAT IT HAPPENS SOMETIMES. SHE’S SAID THE SAME THING ABOUT HER EYE SOMETIMES… THAT IT’S A REMAINING PAIN FROM WHEN SHE LOST IT YEARS AGO. BUT I’VE NEVER KNOWN HER TO BE IN A FIGHT WHERE SHE WAS SO SEVERELY INJURED ACROSS HER CHEST LIKE THAT. AND WHEN I ASKED SHE WOULDN’T ELABORATE.”

Sans nodded again, his brow creasing slightly with thought and worry. A pain in her chest? And one that was so bad she was bedridden because of it. He didn’t know Undyne like his brother did - they were good acquaintances at worst and meager friends at best - but in all the time he’d known her she’d never told any stories about an injury like that. And knowing Undyne, a battle that could cause such an injury would be one she would gloat over. Undyne wasn’t exactly the subtle type.

“Did you call a doctor for her? Or at least get Alphys?”

“... NO.” Papyrus sighed, his expression becoming more downcast, “SHE ASKED - WELL MORE LIKE DEMANDED - I NOT TELL ALPHYS. BUT I PROMISED I WOULD CHECK ON HER IN THE MORNING… TO MAKE SURE SHE WAS OKAY.”

Papyrus gave a nervous laugh, his features settling back into their familiar light-hearted grin, “SHE WILL PROBABLY BE ANGRY THAT I’M CODDLING HER SO MUCH, BUT SHE REALLY WORRIED ME TODAY. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CANNOT SIMPLY STAND IDLY BY WHEN SHE COULD BE IN DISTRESS!”

Sans did his best to put on a smile, “Good thinking bro. Heh… sounds pretty intense.”

“IT WAS INDEED. BUT I DID REMEMBER SOMETHING WHILE WE WERE TALKING.”

Sans’ smile faltered a bit, “O-oh?”

“YES,” Papyrus reached up a hand to rub the back of his neck, massaging a kink in the vertebrae that wasn’t there, “WHILE SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT HER… HURTING… I REALIZED I HAD FELT SOMETHING SIMILAR BEFORE. IN MY NECK. IT’S NOT VERY OFTEN, SOMETIMES I GO WEEKS WITHOUT IT HAPPENING. BUT I GET A VERY SHARP PAIN IN MY NECK THAT IS QUITE DISTRACTING. PERHAPS WE ARE TRAINING A BIT TOO HARD? MAYBE WE SHOULD TAKE IT EASY FOR A BIT. UNDYNE WILL PROBABLY NEVER AGREE, BUT I WAS THINKING ABOUT BRINGING IT UP TOMORROW WHEN I WENT TO CHECK ON HER. PERHAPS I CAN CONVINCE HER TO REST A BIT.”

Sans’s breath caught in his throat again, and he felt as if his heart had sunk a few inches in his chest. But for the first time that night, he managed to hide it. His smile twitched but it didn’t drop, and with his hands in his pockets as they were, Papyrus wouldn’t be able to see them shaking.

“W-what? You kidding me bro?” Sans managed a shaky laugh, “You and Undyne over doing it? Come on, you’re the toughest monsters I know! Though you’re right, rest might be what she needs right now. Sounds like you got a solid plan going.”

Papyrus beamed, happily soaking in the praise he’d received.

“BUT OF COURSE, I THE GREAT PAPYRUS ALWAYS COME UP WITH THE BEST OF PLANS! AND I AM INDEED STRONG. HOWEVER…” His brow furrowed a bit with concern and the previous grandeur in his voice once again slipped away, “I DO WORRY ABOUT  _ YOU  _ BROTHER. YOU ARE VERY MUCH WEAKER THAN I, AND FRAGILE. I WAS WONDERING, HAVE  _ YOU  _ EVER FELT SOMETHING LIKE THIS BEFORE?”

Absentmindedly, Sans slipped a hand from his hoodie pocket to grasp at his chest. His finger bones gripped the fabric, and his heart gave a twinge.


	2. Okay So Maybe I Panicked There For A Second But Really Wouldn't Anyone In My Position?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby gives good advice even if you don't want it. Funny how that works out huh? I hear it's a friend thing.

Grillby raised an eyebrow at Sans, his hair wreathing his face in a halo of contemplative flame. He tipped his head downward a bit, looking over his glasses in a questioning expression. Someone who didn’t know him well enough would wonder what he was doing, his lack of discernible facial features making it hard for him to convey emotion. But Sans and Grillby had known each other for years, and Sans caught onto the stare almost immediately.

“So did you tell him?”

Sans gave an exasperated sigh that echoed through the nearly deserted barroom. Grillby’s was normally filled with monsters from Snowdin, all looking to waste some time in the dim yet warm and friendly atmosphere. At this time of night though, only a few stragglers who couldn’t handle their drinks were left, snoring dizzily in their seats. Grillby would probably be kicking them out as soon as Sans left. But for now he lent a patient ear to his best customer.

“No, I didn’t tell him.”

Grillby’s flames crackled, sparks sputtering exasperatedly about the air. He shot Sans his equivalent to a disappointed glare, the flames about his face arching backwards and angling his features slightly, “You’ve  _ got _ to be kidding me.”

“And just  _ what  _ am  _ I  _ supposed to  _ say _ , G?!” Sans exclaimed, sweeping his hand through the air to add bitter emphasis, “What in the  _ whole wide Underground  _ am I supposed to say that won’t worry him half to death?”

Sans grinned and pitched his voice in mock excitement, “Oh gee Papyrus, I know  _ exactly  _ what you’re talking about dude! I get that feeling too! In  _ fact,  _ sometimes after it happens I have these crazy wicked nightmares where everybody I know and love dies! Except in this dream world I’m  _ incredibly stupid  _ and try to dust the kid responsible, but what  _ actually  _ happens is I end up getting ripped open and dripping ketchup everywhere like some horror movie reject. It’s like I totally forget I have 1HP!”

Sans couldn’t suppress a bitter, half manic laugh as it rose through his throat. He slammed his elbow on the counter and leaned in towards Grillby.

“Oh and wanna know something even  _ cooler _ Papyrus? Undyne got slashed in half, and you got your head lopped off. Funny how that’s  _ exactly where you get your weird feeling huh?! Isn’t that just the most exciting thing you’ve ever heard?!” _

Sans let another bubble of tense laughter roll out of his chest before dropping the facade completely and giving Grillby a stiff glare. The fiery bartender remained stoic, though he seemed to be peering down his glasses at Sans with a hint of concern.

“See, it’s funny because this whole conversation is a  _ joke _ . You should laugh more G, you’ll live longer,” Sans said bitterly, averting his gaze. A rigid silence fell between them and held for a moment. The only sounds that glanced across them were the silent crackling of Grillby’s own flames and the soft snores of a nearby guest.

“Well I suppose if you tell him  _ that way  _ he probably  _ will  _ worry about you,” Grillby finally said, reaching up to adjust his glasses back to a more casual position, “Though I doubt it will be because of the dream bit.”

“Listen G,” Sans said defeatedly, deflating a bit as he spoke, his whole body sighing, “Papyrus already thinks I’m a lazy, panicky slob. I don’t need to add crazy to my list of adjectives. He still has a few ounces of respect for me left after all.”

Grillby leaned on his elbows against the bar counter opposite of Sans, his flames flickering low as his most heartfelt look of concern etched it's way across his features.

“Sans, you’ve been telling me about your dreams for ages and I don’t think you’re crazy. I didn’t think you were crazy when you told me the first time even, and you were drunk then!”

Sans rolled his eyes, a subtle action for a skeleton that Grillby just barely noticed, “Tch, no offence G, but you’re a bartender. Your business gets better when you -” he brought his hands up to make air quotes - “ ‘believe’ the crazy people who come in here.”

Grillby stiffened and tipped his head back, his features angling as he peered down his glasses at Sans in a hurt glare. Sans got the feeling that, if he could, Grillby would be frowning intensely at him. But instead of berating him like Sans expected, Grillby simply hopped over the counter to drop into the closest empty seat to his skeleton companion. The fire-made monster leaned back against the bar and tilted his head at Sans. If it weren’t for the nature of their conversation, he would have almost looked relaxed.

“I’m also your friend, you bonehead,” Grillby said, a hint of bitterness making it’s way through his voice, though it had softened by the next sentence, “And I  _ still  _ don’t think you’re crazy. Listen, you know as well as I do that your brother is going to find out sooner or later. He’s naive, not stupid. And now is as good a time as any to tell him, when he wants to know.”

Sans looked down at his folded arms, frowning guiltily at his own fidgeting hands.

“Your nightmares keep getting worse,” Grillby continued, his voice kind but still holding on to it’s grim severity, “And your anxiety as well. How would you rather your brother find out about all this? Because you’re honest with him? Or because he wakes up hearing you screaming one of these nights?”

Sans ducked his head a bit, frowning ever more fiercely at the counter top. A nervous bead of sweat ran down the side of his skull.

“He’ll be terrified, Sans. And he’ll have to deal with you having a panic attack or a night terror all by himself in the middle of the night, with no idea why in the world you’re so frightened in the first place or even how to calm you down. Does he even  _ know  _ how to stop a panic attack?”

Sans let out a snort and managed a half-hearted and shaky, “I can keep myself calm.”

“No, you can’t,” Grillby locked Sans in another stiff glare, “And even if you could, you shouldn’t have to. You  _ don’t  _ have to. Papyrus, whether he knows it or not, just opened the door to try and help you out of this mess. You want my advice? Take advantage of that. Stop carrying all of this worry on your own. Who cares if they’re  _ just dreams  _ Sans? When they start destroying your real life, they aren’t just dreams anymore.”

Sans sighed. Grillby was right of course.

“I just... “ Sans sighed, running a hand across his skull nervously, “He’s such a bright… happy… monster, G. He’s like the only point of optimism left in this dying place. What will I do with myself if I blot that out? He deserves to be happy.”

“And he will still be happy,” Grillby said, rising from his seat to slowly cross around to his normal place behind the bar, “In fact, he’ll probably be ecstatic that his big brother needs his help with something. Sure, it’ll be rough at first. He’s going to treat you like you’re made of glass because he’s not going to know how to handle you…”

“ _ Brilliant, _ ” Sans said humorously.

“... _ But _ ,” a bit of steel made it back into Grillby’s voice, cutting off any further commentary, “If you two keep working together on this you’ll finally be able to relax around each other again. You won’t have to keep making that stupid face like you’re fine, because you’ll actually be fine. And he won’t have to tiptoe around you anymore, because everything will be out in the open.”

Sans gave Grillby a humorless smile.

“At least promise me you’ll  _ try  _ talking to him,” Grillby sighed, and rested his crossed arms against the bar tiredly as if the conversation had exhausted him. 

“Fine, fine,” Sans raised a hand to his chest mockingly, “I  _ promise _ tomorrow I’ll talk to him. Jeez G, where do you come off with all this sagely advice anyway?”

Grillby’s fire shaped itself keenly as if he were grinning, and as he straightened he made a show of fixing the cuffs of his sleeves in mock pride, “I am a bartender! My business depends on my ability to give great advice. I should be charging people like you for my sessions.”

Sans gave his first genuine laugh of the evening and stood up away from the bar, “ _ Oh no _ , I see where this is going! Time to for me to split!”

Grillby laughed as Sans jogged towards the door, “You useless pile of bones! I don’t see why you’re so scared of your dream human anyway! You dodge your tab just fine!”

“If he threw knives as well as you threw insults I’d have nothing to worry about!” Sans shot playfully over his shoulder as he stepped out the door, “But I do owe you one for the advice, G.”

Grillby’s fire crackled in a snort as he watched his friend leave, before grimly turning to the task of getting the rest of his guests home.


	3. Yeah, but being open about things just makes it too easy right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I mean, you saw this coming right?  
> What, you haven't read it yet? So you DIDN'T see that coming?  
> Nah you actually probably did you just don't know it yet.
> 
> Also Papyrus really is too good for this world. In case you didn't know already.

Sans awoke from a dreamless sleep, hugging the crumpled mass of blankets that he should have been sleeping beneath. Not that he really needed blankets, him being without skin or tissues or anything else that could truly sense cold. Even on the coldest Snowdin days, his bones felt the barest of chills, though they did tend to get brittle when ice was involved. The blankets themselves were just a friendly comfort, something to wrap himself in and feel safe. Just like his hoodie.

He glanced tiredly out his window - the day outside was bright and snow flurried lazily as if it too wished to be back asleep. But a rummaging downstairs kept Sans from sinking back into slumber, just like the soft harrying of the wind kept the snow drifting.

Papyrus was awake.

His brother slept considerably less that Sans did, a fact he’d found complimented his brother’s over-the-top personality quite well. It did make it a bit annoying though that his brother couldn’t understand his own need for sleep. Anything less that 8 hours and Sans was a useless mess at work. Well… more useless than normal at any rate.

“BROTHER!” Papyrus’s voice careened through the silence of Sans’ room, bringing a tired smile to his face, “I HAVE ALREADY MADE BREAKFAST! GET UP YOU LAZY BONES!”

With a suppressed yawn, Sans rolled himself out of bed sluggishly. He fit his feet neatly into his slippers and pulled on his favorite hoodie. He shuffled downstairs, greeting his brother with a lackadaisical smile.

“G’morning bro,” he yawned again, rubbing his left eye sleepily, “How’d you sleep?”

“THE SAME AS I ALWAYS DO, DEAR BROTHER!” Papyrus answered enthusiastically as he sat a plate of reheated spaghetti out for Sans, “EXCELLENTLY! AND A PERFECT FOUR HOURS AS WELL!”

Sans laughed quietly, “I still don’t know how you do that.”

“AND I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW YOU CAN NAP AWAY A PERFECTLY GOOD 8 HOURS,” Papyrus countered, a hint of annoyance making it’s way into his voice, “BUT I WILL NOT JUDGE YOU FOR IT THIS ONCE. YOU WERE QUITE WORRIED LAST NIGHT, YOU WERE PROBABLY MOST EXHAUSTED.”

He grabbed his own plate of leftovers and made his way to the couch, flipping on Mettaton’s morning show. Sans chuckled and moved to follow him.

A sudden flash of pain through his chest made him freeze, his plate nearly dropping from his grasp from the shock of it. Sans took in a quick breath, only to find breathing hurt  _ terribly _ . He gripped the chest of his hoodie with his free hand, every inch of his body shaking.

“Nggh… right now?  _ Really?! _ ” he muttered, his voice rasping somewhere just above a whisper. He could practically feel the lights of his eyes contracting to pinpricks, and in spite of himself his shaking got worse. He felt like his chest was splitting open.

If he could breathe properly he would’ve given a miserable laugh. Was this bad karma? Because he hadn’t said anything to his brother yet? Sans made a mental note to prank Grillby next time he saw him to get some revenge.

“BROTHER!” Papyrus called in a sing-song voice, “WILL YOU JOIN ME TO SEE METTATON’S FIRST SHOW BEFORE I LEAVE FOR MY PATROL?”

It was sheer willpower that allowed him to answer, “J… just a sec bro.”

Slowly, painfully, Sans forced himself to breathe, glaring at one specific tile on the floor as if his stare alone could make it catch fire. His grip tightened on his chest.

After a few painful seconds of breathing, the pain receded as if it had never been there to start with. His ribs ached and his heart pounded, but he was fine. He was okay. He could handle this.

“SANS! YOU’RE MISSING IT!”

“Hold your horses bro.”

Sans took one last second to compose himself before lumbering casually over to his brother. A nervous feeling settled into the pit of his stomach as plopped onto the couch. 

“So… did you visit Undyne this morning?” Sans asked, taking a tentative bite of spaghetti as he spoke. He did his best to hide the frown that suddenly contorted his face. This wasn’t one of his brother’s best batches. Looks like he’d be heading to Grillby’s for breakfast later.

“I DID INDEED!” Papyrus said grandly, his grin lighting his face pridefully, “AND SHE WAS DOING EXCELLENT. WE EVEN PRACTICED A BIT BEFORE I LEFT!”

“Good to hear,” Sans chuckled, “Guess she’ll probably be fine then. What happened to that whole ‘maybe we should rest’ thing you talked about last night?”

Papyrus gave a nervous laugh, “YES WELL, I DID SAY THAT SHE WOULDN’T LIKE THE IDEA. AND TO PROVE SHE DIDN’T NEED REST SHE HAD FUN TOSSING ME OUT THE FRONT DOOR AND SUPLEXING A FEW BOULDERS. SHE WAS QUITE ENTHUSIASTIC THIS MORNING.”

Sans grinned. He could just imagine Undyne going crazy at the mere mention of ‘taking it easy’.

“Well guess it can’t be helped,” Sans said with a shrug, wincing faintly as a small phantom of his earlier pain twinged its way across his ribs.  _ Alright alright I’m getting there! _

“Hey… Pap?” Sans stammered, his earlier nonchalance breaking before his nervousness, “Uh… can I talk to you about something?”

Papyrus pulled his gaze away from the TV and fixed Sans in a golden smile, “WHY YES, SANS?”

His smile shrunk a bit as he took in the worry on his brother's’ face.

“IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?”

“I… well…” Sans rubbed the back of his head. Come on this couldn’t be  _ that  _ hard, “See there’s this thing… that I… heh…”

_ Damn it Grillby. _

“SANS?”

“I was going to ask if I could join you for patrol today? At least until we reach my outpost anyway” Sans managed to reclaim his lazy grin, “You know, spend some quality time together and all that jazz.”

Papyrus blinked at Sans, bewilderment mixing with excitement on his face, “SERIOUSLY?”

“Yeah totally,” Sans chuckled, and then added with a bit more conviction, “It’s been awhile, ya know?”

Papyrus’s smile dropped for a second, and Sans gave a start. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Papyrus fiddled with his hands nervously.

“O-OH… IS THIS BECAUSE I CAME HOME LATE YESTERDAY?”

Sans’ brow furrowed slightly, “Huh?”

“THIS IS BECAUSE I WORRIED YOU SO MUCH ISN’T IT?” Papyrus gave Sans a regretful smile, “I DO WANT YOU TO JOIN ME BROTHER. BUT NOT JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE WORRYING. MAYBE… MAYBE YOU SHOULD STAY AT HOME AND TAKE IT EASY.”

Sans gaped at his brother for a moment, not entirely sure what to say. His brow furrowed a bit as he tried to think of something witty to lighten the mood. Finally he gave a shrug.

“I mean, if you  _ want  _ me to be lazy…”

“THAT’S NOT IT AT ALL,” Papyrus snorted, “I JUST WORRY ABOUT YOUR WELLBEING.”

“No need you explain yourself dude,  _ I see right through you _ ,” Sans let his familiar smile overtake his features.

Papyrus narrowed his eyes at Sans, “DID… DID YOU JUST-”

“Wow, that one really got  _ under your skin  _ huh?” he let out a snort of obnoxious laughter at his own joke. Papyrus was less than amused.

“WOULD YOU STOP PUNNING ME?!” he snapped annoyedly.

“Aw c’mon Papyrus! Don’t let these puns  _ rattle your bones _ . Okay?” If Sans could grin any wider he would have been. The only thing he liked more than bad puns was the way his brother reacted to them. And right now, Papyrus looked like he was about ready to flip a table. He stood angrily, scooping up his half-eaten plate of spaghetti as he went.

“Well I don’t have to  _ stand  _ for this,” in spite of himself, a smile lit up Papyrus’ eyes, “I’m leaving!”

Sans chuckled, “Give me a sec and I’ll join you.”

“ONLY IF YOU PROMISE NO MORE PUNS.”

 

\-----

 

The walk to Sans’ guard outpost was lazy and boring as always. Snow fluttered but for the most part all was still. The only real noise in the place was the sound of the brothers’ own footsteps as they marched along. As they walked, Papyrus talked excitedly about new ideas for puzzles and traps - ideas that Sans was wise enough to nod and say yes too even as he wandered deep in his own thoughts. He needed to tell Papyrus about his nightmares. And about his pains. But for some reason it just seemed like a line he shouldn’t cross. A wall he couldn’t get over. It would be too much of a burden for his brother and too much of a hassle to explain. Wasn’t it better for him to just suffer in silence? Let his brother be ignorant about this one thing. But on the other hand he couldn’t help but feel guilty. After all, Papyrus would never keep a secret like this from him - obviously. He’d already told Sans about his own pains involving the matter. And Grillby’s words from the night before still hadn’t left his mind. Papyrus would be beside himself if the first time he heard of all this was in the middle of a panic attack, night terror or nervous breakdown. He’d think Sans didn’t trust him. He’d feel scared and alone, and Sans never wanted to be the cause of such feelings. And as much as a hassle as it would be to explain, it would be even more of a hassle to keep it a secret. Something that wasn’t worth his time or energy to keep. 

“SANS,” Papyrus’ voice broke through his thoughts and gave him a bit of a start, “I GET THE FEELING YOU ARE DISTRACTED THIS MORNING.”

Sans flashed his brother a nervous grin, “Uh… what makes you say that, bro?”

Papyrus gave Sans a knowing look, and the smaller skeleton was forced to avert his gaze.

“Yeah… it’s pretty obvious. I get it,” Sans sighed, “I just... “   
He ran a hand across the back of his skull nervously, “I… have a lot on my mind.”

Papyrus slowed to a stop, “DO… YOU… WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT?”

“Yes??” Sans flashed another nervous smile, “But no?? I kind of have conflicting feelings about it?”

Papyrus gave a soft laugh, “YOU KNOW YOU CAN TELL ME ANYTHING SANS! I WILL NOT JUDGE YOU - UNLESS OF COURSE IT IS PUN RELATED IN WHICH CASE I WILL HAVE TO JUDGE YOU EXTREMELY HARSHLY!”

Sans chuckled, “No no, definitely not pun related.”

He let out a soft sigh, “I’ll not distract you with it while you’re on patrol today though. We’ll talk about it tonight, okay Pap?”

_ And I’ll have to avoid Grillby like the plague until I man up to this. _

A look of worry darkened Papyrus’ face, and Sans elbowed him to loosen him up, “Hey! It’s not a big deal! And I  _ promise  _ I’ll tell you later. Okay? Brighten up Pap, it’s not nearly as big a deal as I’m probably making it look like it is.”

Papyrus raised an eyebrow at Sans, “IF YOU SAY SO, BROTHER. BUT I WILL HOLD YOU TO YOUR PROMISE TONIGHT, MAKE NO MISTAKE!”

Finally they came to a stop at Sans’ outpost, and Papyrus took his leave - to experiment with those new puzzle ideas of his no doubt. Before he disappeared down the path, however, he turned around one last time to address Sans.

“BROTHER, IF I COULD PUT YOUR MIND AT EASE A LITTLE?” he said in a voice laced with confidence and pride, “YOU KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH, AND WHATEVER IT IS THAT IS SO IMPORTANT TO YOU, IT WILL ALWAYS BE IMPORTANT TO ME AS WELL. DO NOT BE AFRAID OF ME. AFTER ALL, I BELIEVE IN YOU!”

He flashed one last broad grin before turning to walk away.

Sans sighed after him, a grim smile settling across his features, “Sure thing… Pap…”


	4. I Mean, If This Isn't Bad News I Dunno What Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During which we get a lot of thoughts and... oh look the thought came to life. That's... uh... terrifying.  
> And so is deja vu

In spite of himself, Sans couldn’t fall asleep at his post like normal. It was really one of the few things he looked forward to about the boring outpost job. The fact that he could just sit idly and dream the day away, get a few moments of rest, get a few moments of peace and quiet when his mind would stop stirring. It was a good reason to enjoy sleep period, actually, but it especially lightened up an otherwise extremely mundane watch task.

But today, present dilemma being as it was, he couldn’t even relax for a wink. He was too nervous, half formed conversations and excuses battling themselves out in his head. He kept imagining how he would tell Papyrus about his freakish dreams, changing the dialogue each time. Should he try to laugh it off? Try to keep his brother at ease about the whole thing? Maybe throw in a few puns for good measure and pretend he wasn’t as bothered by it all as he actually was. Though he supposed Papyrus wouldn’t appreciate it much. He was worried about Undyne, he was worried about himself. He was worried about Sans. Simply attempting to shrug off the issue as some freaky coincidence would probably invite criticism, or an argument, or both. 

But it was so hard to try and take it seriously as well. He didn’t  _ want  _ to take it seriously. Taking it seriously meant coming to terms with something that was probably more terrifying than either of them could imagine. It meant that in all of those disturbing dreams… there was a hint of truth buried in them. Parallel universes maybe? Strange halfway stitched together timelines? Maybe even some weird kind of reincarnation? It was all vague and weird and hard to wrap the mind around. But something was definitely happening that his mind was clinging to when he was asleep. Something that had a presence in the waking world that his body could feel, and feel intensely. If he admitted it to Papyrus, he’d have to admit it was a problem to himself to. He’d have to face it and try to deal with it.

Deal with the fact that somehow, some time, some way, Papyrus was murdered. Sans hadn’t been there to stop it. Hundreds of monsters were murdered. Undyne couldn’t stop that. Asgore couldn’t stop it. No one could. If they lived in a world where a creature - no - a force of nature could come through and wipe them all out like that, what was the point in living in that world at all? If he were rational about it, he imagined a human killing everyone would be about the same as a cave in. An act of a higher power beyond their control like that could happen at any time. But there was comfort in knowing a cave in didn’t have the mind to intentionally harm. 

That thing from his dreams… that was terrifying.

Something so determined to kill… to destroy everything no matter the cost to their own morality…

What kind of evil and hate had to be buried in that creature?

What power to overcome every obstacle they faced in the name of mindless slaughter?

It was pointless. Living in a world where something like that could exist was pointless. 

Suddenly Sans realized he was shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps that shook his body all the way down to his core. He hugged himself, trying to find comfort in the motion, counting his breaths and forcing them to slow.

_ This is going to be so much harder than I thought.  _

Sans gave a bitter sigh, half collapsing onto the woodwork in front of him in mental defeat.

“ _ Why me _ ,” he groaned dramatically, “Why can’t everything just be  _ normal _ ?!”

With one last huff he stood and - not really knowing what else to do with himself - began making his way up the path away from Snowdin. There was no point going this way. The trail ended abruptly at a pair of doors that were always kept locked. Locked by who he didn’t know, but he supposed if it had to do with anything, it probably had to do with the humans who put them here forever and a half ago.

He crunched his way through the snow, a grimace plastered on his face, hands jammed stiffly in his pockets. His mind still reeled, trying to find a suitable explanation for everything but coming up woefully short. How in the world was he supposed to tell Papyrus all of the theories and thoughts buzzing around in his head? 

A loud noise up the path stopped him in his tracks, even his mind coming to a troubled hault. Was that…? No way.

Suspicion etched it’s way across his features as he stepped off the path and into the treeline. A sense of deja-vu washed over him, like he’d been here before, heard this before… 

The crunch of footsteps through the snow made their way to his ears, and he sunk a bit further into the shadows of the treeline. A small figure came into view in the distance, their stride confident despite their size. They had to have come from the doors. There was no other place ahead that they could have appeared from. As they came closer, Sans felt his heart sink, a feeling of dread creeping up his spine once again. If he could have melted into the snow in that instant, he would have. To just disappear, to escape the warning bells ringing in his ears and the now increasingly nauseous feeling of deja-vu. 

_ It was a human, and the grin on its face had a familiarity that made Sans want to be sick. _


	5. Sometimes Morals Get Kinda Complicated When Killing Machines Are Involved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I mean, I love you bro but you're wrong.  
> No, seriously, you're wrong.  
> You know what? Never mind.

_ “Don’t you know how to greet a new pal?” _

_ “Shake my hand.” _

_ “Go right ahead. My bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone anyway.” _

Why were these words so familiar? Almost rehearsed? Sans laughed bitterly to himself. He could have said them in his sleep – and he probably had. He’d said them in every weird dream, every nightmare. That had to be why they came to him so easily now. Like a well-rehearsed script. But for the life of him he couldn’t think of anything else to say. His nerves were on edge, his hands shook in the sleeves of his hoodie. His grin barely hid it.

And the child he spoke to… smiling despite the shadow hiding behind their eyes. It wasn’t a wicked grin, it didn’t split their face apart like a jagged razor blade. In fact it wasn’t altogether evil on its own, even with the hollow stare echoing back behind the smile could’ve passed as normal. But the kid… it was like their entire aura was off. Not sinister or evil, just off. Like something that was supposed to be there had slipped a little. Like their shadow was cast a little to the left of where it should have fallen. It was subtle, hiding. Insidious.

If he had skin, it’d be crawling. 

But when Papyrus met the kid, he didn’t seem to notice - or if he noticed he ignored it enthusiastically. He was a flourish of energy and innocence, boundless in his attempts to outsmart the human with his clever puzzles. And the human responded with a perfectly measured smile and hollow wit. He walked right through them, watching almost cruelly as Papyrus’ exasperation grew. Deja-vu twisted around in Sans’ stomach, and gave a vicious tug when Papyrus talked about capturing the human. Was Papyrus planning on confronting the them? Was he planning on  _ fighting  _ them?

Papyrus jogged in front of him now, a mix of excitement and irritation in his voice as he ranted. 

“I WILL NOT LET THIS PHASE ME, SANS! I WILL GET THROUGH TO THIS HUMAN, I CAN ASSURE YOU! IT WORRIES ME THAT THEY TAKE NO PLEASURE FROM THESE PUZZLES,” he exclaimed as he walked, his large strides threatening to leave Sans behind, “I MEAN HONESTLY, WHO JUST  _ WALKS RIGHT THROUGH  _ THE PUZZLES THAT A NOBLE SKELETON SUCH AS MYSELF SO KINDLY SETS OUT FOR THEM? SUCH A LACK OF MANNERS! THIS CHILD NEEDS A PROPER ROLE MODEL!”

Sans gave a half-hearted laugh, “Yeah Pap… that’s it.”

“SOMEONE GREAT, AND KIND! SOMEONE OPTIMISTIC AND WITH BOUNDLESS AMOUNTS OF PATIENCE AND OVERALL AWESOMENESS!”

Sans looked up at his brother, worry working it’s way across his face, “Someone like you Pap?”

Both brothers stopped at this, and Papyrus turned to watch his brother with a look of concern.

“DO YOU NOT BELIEVE I CAN REACH HIM, BROTHER?” Papyrus asked, his face becoming more downcast. Sans gave a tense sigh, looking away from his brother. 

“Papyrus, that human is going to kill you,” he said, his voice strained and nervous.

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT,” Papyrus gave a soft laugh, “I MEAN… THEY’RE JUST A CHILD. DO YOU REALLY THINK…”

“I don’t  _ think  _ Pap, I  _ know _ ,” Sans looked up at his brother now, his nerves giving way to resolve, “You  _ can’t fight them. _ ”

Sans crossed his arms, his normal slouch turning more rigid, “I’m not gonna lose you bro. I… listen. That thing I was going to tell you about earlier? It was this.”

He waved his hand in the air, ushering to to the world around them, “I keep having dreams that this  _ right here  _ is going to happen, okay? They’re creepy, and they keep getting worse. And every single time that…  _ thing  _ comes onto the scene it kills you Pap. In every dream.”

He could feel himself starting to shake, his nerves once again breaking his composure, “ _ Every single time _ , Pap. No matter what you say or do. And no matter what I tell you, you always go anyway. And this is really starting to freak me out okay? Ever since yesterday when you told me about…! about…”

He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, suddenly realizing how crazy he must sound, “Bro… you understand right? This can’t be a coincidence. You  _ can’t  _ do this. Okay?”

Papyrus opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, shifting awkwardly on his feet, at a loss for words.

Sans sighed, finally looking up again to look his brother in the eye, “Tell me honestly Pap, do you really think you can kill anybody? Even if they’re trying their hardest to kill you first? Even if you know they’ve killed others? Do you really have the resolve to do that? Because if you do, fine. I won’t stop you bro. But if you can’t… if you  _ know  _ when faced with the decision to kill them or to spare them, you’ll spare them… Pap… they won’t spare you back you know that right? They’ll think you’re weak for doing it. They’ll take advantage of that.”

Papyrus’s voice was small now, dismay claiming his features, “YOU… YOU DON’T KNOW THAT. SANS, THERE HAS TO BE SOME GOOD IN THEM SOMEWHERE. NO ONE CAN BE  _ THAT _ CRUEL. KILLING,  _ MURDER,  _ IT’S A CHOICE, AND NO DECENT CREATURE WOULD EVER CHOSE TO KILL WHEN GIVEN THE OPTION NOT TO.”

Sans gave an exasperated sigh that ripped through his teeth like a growl, “Yes they will Pap! You can’t go into this optimistic, and you can’t hope for the best. This is _real_ Papyrus. They’re not gonna stop like you do when your HP gets down to 1. They’ll be determined to get past you Pap, which to them means dusting you. You’d be willing to just walk right into that?! Open armed and grinning like some naive idiot?! They’ll _kill you_ Papyrus! Don’t you get it?!”

His shaking was worse, his heart twisting into knots of anger and dread. He had to grit his teeth to keep them from chattering as his brother locked him in a concerned stare. He must look like a mess. Like he was going to break down any minute - and honestly he felt it too. 

Sans sighed as his brother kneeled down to his level and tenderly, lovingly, wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Sans raised his own shaking hands to cling to the back of his brother’s shirt. The back of his throat hurt from tension and held back tears - tears that began to leak from his eye sockets in spite of his desperate tries to hold them back. He buried his head in Papyrus’ shoulder, allowing himself a bitter laugh that turned into a sob as it left his throat. His voice shivered as he spoke, tense and cracked in every word.

“You’re all I’ve got Pap. You can’t leave me alone.”

He felt his brother’s body move in a sigh so deep it seemed to make Papyrus collapse, “I CAN’T JUST TURN AWAY FROM THIS SANS. NOT WHEN THERE’S THE CHANCE THAT I CAN CHANGE IT. YOU MUST UNDERSTAND. I WOULD NEVER WILLINGLY LEAVE YOU ALONE.”

This was pointless. Everything he’d said was pointless. Why had he even tried? The bitter despair that had been twisting his stomach into knots began to boil in his blood. He pushed his way out of his brother’s embrace and fixed him in a glare, “Fine. Do what you want. But you at least owe it to the people in Snowdin to get them out of the way first. Nobody  _ else  _ should be dying today.”

Papyrus looked genuinely hurt. He wrung his hands nervously, “BROTHER I-”

“Let’s just go,” he wished to whatever power existed that his voice would stop shaking. His mouth twisted into a grimace and he huffed as he wiped his tears away. Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he stomped off down the path. Papyrus rose slowly and followed him, letting the silence keep them company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooookay so I've actually already got 19 Chapters of this baby up on Fanfiction.net  
> So if you're an eager beaver and can't wait to see what happens next you could pop over thar.  
> If that's not your thing: I plan on posting every Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday until we catch up to the buffer.  
> But I gave you five chapters in one night because I have homework to do and I'm procrastinating like an ass.  
> Whoops.


	6. When the Bartender's Worried You Know There's Problems

“You sure the kids will be good back there, G?” Sans asked skeptically as he gazed at the entrance to Grillby’s kitchen. His friend nodded, arms crossed over his chest proudly.

“Only fire can go through the fire escape,” he said, a grim smile causing his fire to flicker smartly, “The only reason they could get in is because I held it open. The same will be for the human child. Unless it intends to set itself on fire and pass through. And should it come to that, I and other the parents will be waiting.”

Grillby caught notice of the worry on Sans’ face and his flame gave a nervous crackle, “If you don’t believe me, feel free to try entering yourself.”

“No no, it’s not that,” Sans sighed bitterly, “It’s… Papyrus, G. Everything I’ve ever told you about those stupid dreams… it’s like he’s using them as a script.”

“Did you tell him?”

Sans crossed his arms, hoping to comfort himself a bit. His voice cracked anyway.

“Yeah I did. And I begged him not to go. But he says he’s got to do this. He’s got to prove the kid can turn back and become a good person.”

“Maybe he will.”

Sans snorted a laugh. Grillby’s voice had been flat and hopeless. So Sans wasn’t the only one who thought this was all pointless. But an idea was forming in the back of his mind, one that made his stomach churn with nervousness and fear. But to be honest, he was more terrified of losing Papyrus. This was nothing compared to that.

“Come, Sans,” Grillby’s voice was gentle and his flame radiated a comforting warmth, “You should join us in the back. I know you’re worried about your brother but… you will be safe with us at least.”

Sans shook his head, his gazed fixed to the floor. 

“No… I can’t.”

His looked up at Grillby, and he watched as his friend’s flames suddenly flickered low, nearly putting themselves out. It was his equivalent to going pale.

“I’m going to… I’m going to try and reason with the kid. Or maybe fight him who knows,” Sans’ voice faltered as he spoke, “I mean… I really don’t think it will do any good. But I can’t just let them walk right to Papyrus. I can’t just watch the kid kill him, you know?.”

“Sans,” Grillby’s own voice quivered, and his flame flickered with it, “Don’t do this. It’s your brother’s own choice to try and stop the human. And you said so yourself that it will probably kill anything in its path. Sans… you don’t stand a chance.”

In spite of the whole situation, Sans managed a grin, “Jee, G, I didn’t know flames like you could cry.”

Grillby crossed his arms and did his best to give an indignant huff, “I can’t cry, thank heavens, or else I’d have doused myself by now.”

Sans managed a half-hearted chuckle, “I’m not worth the tears anyway, Grillby. Just… keep everyone safe, and I’ll maybe see you later?”

Grillby ran his hands through the flames on his head, obviously torn apart. Sans grimaced watching him. He was used to Grillby being rather stoic, his voice and demeanor always calm despite whatever shenanigans happened in the bar. But here he stood with his flames sputtering tensely, the colors burning into bright whites, yellows and blues as his mind reeled. It took him a second to compose himself and calm his own panic, crossing his arms and doing his best to settle into a look of normalcy. It was hard to believe, however, when the colors in his flame still raged in gold and cyan.

“You better not die before paying your damn tab, you little fool,” Grillby spat bitterly, his voice once again catching a bit of a quiver despite his best efforts, “Your brother will be furious if I pin him with your bill.”

Sans laughed, this time actually feeling a bit of it in his heart. He gave Grillby a thumbs-up, “Hey, you got it.”

He forced up a lazy grin, one that would have put Grillby to ease under normal circumstances, “And if that kid get’s past me make ‘em feel hell, haha. Get it? Cuz fire.”

The door shut behind him and with a bitter sigh he slipped into one of his ‘short cuts’. Alone in the main dining room, nobody was able to see Grillby lose his composure completely. He slumped to the floor, his back against the bar counter. His fire burned low and dull, the bright flame quenching to dull reds and oranges. 

Hopeless.

 

\-----

 

Sans emerged from his shortcut just outside of town, barring the way to the bridge, watching the path ahead with a shaky frown. He could see the human coming now, a growing blot against the snow ahead. Sans let out a bitter sigh, his breath turning to mist in the Snowdin air. He kept his hands stiff in his hoodie pockets, leaning forward slightly, feet spaced out beneath him in a confrontational slouch. He could feel himself shaking.

The human smiled pleasantly at Sans as they approached, the same jagged smile that had probably sent several monsters to their afterlives. They held their hands behind their backs somewhat innocently, like a child hiding a surprise for their parents. Their eyes were red.

“So, uh, guess we need to talk, huh?” Sans said after a tense pause. The human said nothing, choosing only to smile at him in an almost pleasant, sickly-sweet kind of way. 

“Listen kid,” he continued, “Take it from a guy who knows, this path you’re going on… it’s not right, okay? I don’t know what your game is, and honestly, I don’t care. But you can’t go any further, alright?”

The child gave a soft giggle, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sans gave a snort of surprise, “Oh, so you  _ do  _ understand English then. I was beginning to wonder.”

The jagged grin settled back across the child’s features.

“Which means you understand what you’re doing, don’t you?” Sans’ frown darkened, his head tilting downward slightly as he glared at the human before him, “You dusting all those punks in Snowdin forest. That was intentional, wasn’t it?”

“It was self defense,” the human purred, their voice dripping honey and tar, “I mean after all, they attacked me first.”

“Self defense don’t justify murder, kid,” Sans responded stiffly, “And you’d be covered in more blood than dust if that were actually true.”

The human’s smile flickered a bit, “Murder? Hehe, you’re being silly Sans. You don’t  _ care  _ about what I do. Not until later anyway.”

Sans could feel the lights of his eyes contracting into pinpricks, his brow furrowed questioningly.

“But of course, you don’t remember that,” the child’s voice purred like a cat’s, and Sans’ gut twisted knowing he was probably the mouse, “Nobody ever really remembers, do they? But this is great though! Finally something new. Don’t tell me I’ve managed to jump to a timeline when you haven’t given up yet.”

Sans managed a smile, though it twitched nervously, “Give up? Not sure I know what you’re talking about kid. Now lazy on the other hand, I do that with pride.”

The child laughed, “Oh I love it when you surprise me like this. You were always pretty unpredictable you know.”

Their smile widened suddenly, and their gaze shifted to look just over Sans’ right shoulder. In spite of his better judgement, Sans threw a glance behind him. There was a flash of red, followed shortly by a very familiar voice.

“SANS? BROTHER WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THIS IS DANGEROUS!”

_ Damn it Papyrus _ .

Sans turned to face the kid again, suddenly realizing they were much,  _ much  _ closer than they had been before. He gave a start and sidestepped, feeling the rush of air as the kid flailed his arm out and missed. There was a glint of metal, Papyrus gave a shout.

“You missed, kid!” Sans spat harshly, feeling the familiar tug of his magic. He reached out towards the kid to hold them still.

_ Shk! _

Well… that was...  _ unexpected _ . 

The kid leaped back away from Sans, their grin still plastered across their face. 

“Really? I don’t think I missed at all.”

Sans glanced down at himself, staring down at the wound in his chest with a vague mix of disbelief and shock. One HP. It was stupid and pathetic but it was all he had. Well… he used to have, anyway.

He managed to flash the kid a shaky grin, choking on shock and fear, “That… was overkill… don’t you think k-kid?”

The child didn't respond, choosing instead to back away as the sound of Papyrus’ heavy footfalls approached. He was screaming something, but Sans barely heard it. His gaze sunk back down to his chest, so numb to the world around him that he didn’t even realize he was falling over. Not until his brother caught him at least.

_ Oh right. Papyrus. _

“SANS! SANS HANG ON. YOU’RE GOING TO BE OKAY JUST…”

Dimly, hazily, Sans realized his brother was crying. He blinked slowly and looked up at his brother. Papyrus was never meant to look like that. So lost. So hurt. So  _ desperate _ . Tears made tracks down the taller skeleton’s face and his mouth fixed itself in a shaky grimace as he tried to control his own sobbing.

“H-hey bro…” Sans let out a weak laugh that rattled in his mangled chest, “Sorry I couldn’t help.”

Papyrus hugged him then, as if that alone could hold Sans together. To keep him from crumbling away.

“Hey…”

Papyrus looked down at him, their eyes met for a second. Sans grinned.

“I love you.”

He didn’t hear the response.


	7. Hmmm This Feels Faintly Deja-Vu-Ish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Papyrus has a really good reason to be freaking out but no one really knows it yet

Sans awoke to the sound of screaming. His  _ brother’s  _ screaming. He jolted upright in bed, panic making his voice break.

“P-papyrus?!”

Without wasting another second he bolted out of his room, crashing down the hall in a manic haze. Papyrus was screaming bloody murder, a sound so distraught and fearful it set Sans’ teeth on edge. He threw his brother’s door open with a bang and dashed inside. Papyrus was sitting up in his racecar bed, somewhere between asleep and awake. The room crackled with his charging magic and he sobbed, bony fingers clutching at his own skull. His whole body shook.

“Papyrus! Papyrus?” Sans came to a halt beside his brother, putting his hands on his brother’s shoulders. He tried to keep his voice gentle, despite his own dread rising like bile in his throat, “Papyrus please, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”

Papyrus didn’t respond. Still dazed and half asleep as he was, he merely stared forward at his own blankets and whimpered pitifully. His body shuddered and his chest heaved, some part of him still trapped in the despair of his nightmare.

“Papyrus, c’mon buddy,” Sans shook his brother’s shoulders gently, pitching his voice into a gentle coo, “Wake up. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

After a while, Papyrus’ frenzied cries subsided, replaced by shaky whimpers as he woke up. He blinked at Sans, relief finding its way into his broken expression. He reached out a shaky hand to touch the side of Sans’ face, trying to confirm that what he was seeing was real. Suddenly he pitched forward, grabbing Sans in a fierce hug and dragging him halfway across the bed.

“OH SANS THANK GOODNESS!” his voice shook as if he were about to burst into a fresh wave of tears, “I THOUGHT I’D LOST YOU FOREVER.”

A grim smile crossed Sans’ face, “You… you have a nightmare Pap?”

Papyrus sighed happily, glad to hear his brother’s voice. After a moment of holding him he finally let go, his body relaxing half exhaustedly back against his bed. He wiped the tears from his eyes, his face locked in a grimace.

“NIGHTMARE IS TOO KIND OF A WORD FOR IT,” his voice was steadying now, though the unmistakeable shake still hid beneath the confidence, “SANS, IT WAS TERRIBLE. I THOUGHT YOU… NO… EVERYONE HAD PERISHED. ALL AT THE HANDS OF A HUMAN CHILD.”

Sans sat at the edge of his brother’s bed, brow furrowed with worry, “Man that’s scary. I’m sorry Pap.”

“I DREAMED I TRIED TO STOP THEM,” he continued, “I JUST WANTED THEM TO CHANGE. TO ADMIT WHAT THEY’D DONE WAS WRONG. TO STOP KILLING.”

He paused, his eyes growing distant, “I SUPPOSE… I DIDN’T TRY HARD ENOUGH.”

Sans sighed, “Don’t say that Pap. It’s just a dream, okay? You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

He reached over and put his hand on one of his brother’s, “You’re okay. We’re okay. Don’t cry.”

Papyrus nodded, the edges of his mouth twitching in a smile, “I’M SORRY BROTHER. I REALLY MUST STOP WORRYING YOU SO MUCH.”

Sans chuckled, “Hey don’t sweat it bro. I got my exercise in for the day running down the hall. Now I can be twice as lazy!”

Papyrus laughed at this, his grin returning to his features, “YOU KNOW, I WOULDN’T HAVE YOU ANY OTHER WAY.”

Sans smiled, “Must’ve been a real bad one if you’re okay with me loafing around.”

Sans let his gaze drop to the floor and he gave a worried sigh, “Uh… it’s still night out. You want me to try reading you to sleep again?”

He could feel Papyrus’ eyes on him, soaking him in, his dream still haunting him and making him paranoid. 

“UHM… NO… “ his voice was soft, worried, “BUT… COULD YOU... ?”

Sans looked up at him questioningly.

“COULD YOU STAY HERE WITH ME. MAYBE?” Papyrus’ voice was hardly above a whisper as he asked. Sans cracked a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah of course bro,” he said with a laugh, 

Sans gently crawled onto the bed beside his brother, locking him in a comforting hug. His eyelids drooped sleepily. He knew Papyrus probably wouldn’t sleep, but he himself could use a few more hours at least. And here next to his brother, he felt comforted. But also haunted. In his rush to help Papyrus, he’d completely forgotten his own dream. He knew he’d dreamt something. A twinge of bitterness still bubbled in his throat from it, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. It had been a bad one, he guessed.  

His chest ached.

 

\---

 

It wasn’t until later when his was sitting boredly at his post that his mind finally started to piece together bits of his dream. Though really the only pieces he could clearly remember were the human. And his brother. Which shouldn’t have been anything new really. But the acidic bite in his chest told him something about this dream was different, even if he couldn’t quite put a finger on it yet. 

And whatever his brother had dreamed about had left him haunted, too.

It was disturbing to see his brother the way he’d been that morning - looking lost and afraid. His gaze seemed to linger on Sans a little longer than normal, the nightmare still wafting around him like a bitter fog. No amount of puns or encouraging words could keep Pap’s smile on his face for long. It was hard, trying to be happy for the both of them. Especially when his own life was nothing but a bundle of nerves and stress anyway. It was normally Papyrus’ job to set  _ his  _ mind at ease. Sans didn’t like this change. He couldn’t keep up with it. He didn’t have the constitution for it. But he supposed he’d have to try, for his brother’s sake at least.

Sans gave a soft sigh and stood up from his post, shaking away the stiffness in his bones that came from sitting still most of the day. Maybe if he did something nice for his brother it would help lift his spirits? Or maybe the opposite was the answer? Papyrus always did seem to lighten up when he knew he was helping a friend. Sans began walking up the path away from Snowdin.

He chuckled to himself, a pleasant idea making its way into his mind. Papyrus loved cooking. Maybe if he asked Grillby nicely enough the fire elemental would let Papyrus give cooking in his kitchen a go around. Of course, Paps could be a little overzealous… he’d have to make his brother promise to reign it in a little bit. And Papyrus constantly complained about the amount of grease in the food Grillby cooked. But it would probably still lift his brother’s spirits to feel like he was helping the bartender out. Maybe he could even get Undyne to join.

By now Sans was grinning happily, and he pumped a fist in the air with enthusiasm at his own plan, “Ha! That’s perfect!”

_ SLAM!! _

Sans froze in his tracks, watching the path ahead of him, his heart beating a mile a minute.

What… was that…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, well, that definitely doesn't bode well does it? I mean, aside from the fact that this is obviously seeming a bit repetetive ahaha.


	8. Well If This Isn't Grim I Dunno What Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Papyrus get's a little better at defending his point, and Sans feels even more deja-vu

Sans shuddered all the way down to his soul. His chest ached. He felt nauseous. It was like someone had suddenly yanked the ground out from underneath him, sending him freefalling. Panic. That’s what this was. But in spite of himself, Sans was confused, because the panic wasn’t over his own safety. It was for Papyrus.

     _A human child. Here. While Papyrus is on patrol right up the road._

    Sans stood in the shadows of the treeline, glaring at the figure that walked up the path. The deja-vu of this was killing him, along with a creeping feeling of hopelessness. Inevitability.

     _I’m going to die._

    The thought was so resolute, pristine, sure. Normal.

     _Papyrus is going to die._

    Sans started shaking.

     _I’ve seen this before._

    The child stopped walking, pausing to look around as if confused.

     _I’m supposed to be down there._

    Sans couldn’t move. The child grinned. They knew something had changed, even if Sans couldn’t remember something was different. They scanned the forest, finally settling their eyes on Sans’ huddled form.

    “Oh come on. Is that any way to greet a new pal?”

     _Huh, so that’s what ice feels like._

    For a few rough heartbeats Sans was at a loss for what to do. He wanted to compose himself, to pretend nothing was wrong, to stamp down the dread and fear that was forcing his nonexistent stomach into knots. He took a few ragged breaths.

     _Calm down._

    He grinned. It felt foreign and weird on his face, given the circumstance.

    “... that’s my line, kid.”

    The child laughed, a sound that would have been pleasant had it not been intermixed with the shrill alarm bells sounding off in Sans’ soul.

    “What’s the matter Sans? You’re not scared of me are you?”

    --

    “SANS, YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN, ALRIGHT?”

    “Bro, I can’t calm down about this.”

    “YOU’RE GETTING HYSTERICAL.”

    “You’re not taking this seriously enough!”

     _Man, why was this so stupidly familiar?_

    Now wasn’t the time to be arguing. Not here in the middle of town, with everyone running around to try and find a safe place. After all, Sans and Papyrus were the last line of defense for Snowdin - even if they weren’t royal guards. A rift between them at time like this would push people into panic, if they weren’t there already.

    “Papyrus, you can’t kill the human,” Sans insisted, his breathing fast and ragged, “You can’t even admit they’re evil. We can hide, like everyone else in Snowdin bro. Let Undyne take care of this. Let Asgore take care of this. Let _anyone else_ take care of this!”

    “I CAN’T _DO THAT_ BROTHER!” Papyrus put his hands down roughly on Sans’ shoulders, as if he could keep his brother from breaking down, “AND YOU NEED TO BREATHE. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE A PANIC ATTACK.”

    “I can’t calm down bro!” Sans was practically shouting now, people were staring, “That thing’s going to kill you! Just get over yourself and admit you can’t do this!”

    “THIS ISN’T A PROBLEM WITH PRIDE, SANS,” how could Papyrus keep his voice so calm at a time like this?!

    “You’re right,” a bitter laugh worked it’s way into Sans’ voice, “This is a problem with constitution. You’re not going to actually fight that thing are you? You’re just gonna stand there and hope it gives up!”

    “SANS, IT’S A HUMAN, NOT AN IT.”

    “You don’t have the nerve to kill that thing! You think it’ll just give up what it’s doing even though it’s killed _children_ Papyrus?!” Sans didn’t know if he was angry or panicking at this point, he just _was_ , “It’s going to kill you! We’ve been through this before! You can’t just walk up to that thing open armed like some... ! Like… I…”

    The look on Papyrus’ face cut him off. It was so different from the quiet resolution he’d seen a few seconds before. It was lost. It was scared. It was…

    Sans took a breath, his panic abating before his own confusion.

    “... why are you looking at me like that?”

    “WE… HAVEN’T BEEN THROUGH THIS BEFORE BROTHER,” Papyrus said slowly, “WE’VE NEVER… IS THIS… HOW YOU REALLY FEEL ABOUT ME? YOU DON’T THINK I CAN HELP THEM?”

    Sans’ train of thought became derailed. The argument he’d had stewing in his chest disappeared. He blinked up at his brother, shaky and confused, at a loss for words. It took a few seconds for his mind to crawl back into motion.

    “I… we… but…” he paused, “I-if… If anyone can change that kid’s mind it’s you Pap.”

    Oh no, don’t start crying.

    “But nothing’s going to change its mind, okay? Not even you.”

    “WHAT MAKES YOU SO SURE?”

    His chest hurt. His head hurt. _Everything_ hurt. Why was he so sure? How could he know this kid wasn’t going to turn back given the chance?

    Because of the creepy smile? Because of the way it looked for him? The way it knew exactly what he was supposed to be saying before he got the nerve to say it? Running through Papyrus’ puzzles as if they knew what was going to happen. Knowing exactly how many monsters lived in the forest outside of Snowdin.

    They knew his name before he even introduced himself.

    “I’m just… sure.”

    Papyrus’ brow furrowed, and he frowned, “NO SANS, YOU CAN’T KNOW THAT.”

    His chest was starting to hurt even more. Like he’d been struck.

    “MURDER, KILLING, IT’S A CHOICE. AND THE CHILD DESERVES THE CHANCE TO TURN BACK ON THE DECISIONS THEY’VE MADE SO FAR. UNDYNE WON’T OFFER THEM THAT. ASGORE WON’T OFFER THEM THAT.”

    Sans realized he was clutching his chest.

    “IF YOU WERE STRONG ENOUGH TO FACE THEM BROTHER, I’D HOPE YOU’D OFFER THEM NOTHING LESS THAN WHAT I WOULD.”

    Sans looked down at the snow at his feet, frowning.

    “... honestly Pap…? I wouldn’t.”

    He was sure of this. Unshakably sure. And it frightened him. When had he ever consciously decided he would be willing to kill another creature? When had he decided murder was something he was allowed to do? In the normally sleepy, boring, dull life he lived, when had he ever decided something like that was worth having on his conscious? _When?_

    “In fact… I don’t think I’d even spare it,” he looked up at his brother, “I’d fight tooth and nail to kill that thing.”

    Papyrus looked shocked, even going so far as to take a step back away from his brother.

    “SANS, YOU CAN’T MEAN THAT.”

    “I mean it one hundred percent, bro.”

     _And it’s terrifying._ Sans had never been so resolutely sure of anything in his life.

    “SANS…” Papyrus seemed distraught, his face twisted in a look of pain, “THEY… THEY’RE JUST A CHILD! JUST LIKE THE CHILDREN WHO LIVED IN THE FOREST. JUST LIKE MONSTER KID OR… YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS! YOU CAN’T MURDER A CHILD!”

    “This isn’t a _normal child,_ Pap!” Sans was shouting again. He felt guilty at his realization, but he had to defend it. He had to be right about this, “That kid is killing monsters left and right!”

    “THAT CHILD… PROBABLY HAS A GOOD REASON FOR DOING THESE THINGS,” Papyrus sighed, a grim look of determination settling on his face, “AND I’M GOING TO GIVE THEM THE CHANCE TO CHANGE THEIR MIND. BROTHER, PLEASE EVACUATE WITH THE OTHERS. YOU NEED TO STAY OUT OF THE WAY.”

    He gave Sans a stiff glare, “DON’T INTERFERE WITH THIS, SANS. _PLEASE_. NO MORE CREATURES SHOULD BE DYING TODAY.”

    He didn’t wait for a response, he just left. Sans shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, surprised to realize he wasn’t shaking anymore. His chest had stopped hurting. His panic had washed away. Now Sans only felt cold, so cold he almost felt nothing. When had that rift happened? Sans and Papyrus were raised the same. They’d lived together for as long as they’d both been alive. And while siblings tended to have differing points of view, decisions that held this kind of gravity tended to stay the same. When had this happened? Shouldn’t this be reversed even? After all, Papyrus was the one who wanted to be in the royal guard. To protect everyone. To save the world. Filled with endless optimism and pride.

    So why was it Sans who had decided so resolutely that, if given the choice, he would rather kill someone then take the chance that it would kill someone else?

    A hand on his shoulder shocked him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Grillby. The fire elemental said nothing, choosing only to wear the same look of concern that he used any time Sans was upset. His flame sputtered in the breeze that carried through the air, teasing sparks away from the rest of his body.

    “Come inside, Sans,” his voice was soft and gentle, “You need to get someplace safe as well.”

    But Sans already knew what he was going to do, and it scratched at his soul like a hitch in a record player.


	9. So Is This A Game We're Playing Then?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author tries to be decent at making foreshadowing and kinda sorta fails at it.

“Well I’ll be damned if everything about this doesn’t seem familiar,” Sans gazed warily at the kid as they approached. Just watching the kid made it hard for Sans to breathe. He was braced all the way down to his own quivering soul, like he knew what was coming. What  _ was  _ coming? Sans felt his own magic start to crackle through the air. A row of bones rose up on either side of him, ready to spring forward when the human got close enough.

This was new. The magic was new.

How could he tell that felt new?

The child grinned at him, that same innocent-but-not smile twisting their features. 

“Wow, you’re enthusiastic today,” the child laughed. The sound was like bells mixed with metal screeching its way across glass, “And cruel as always.”

“What’s your game here, kid?” Sans demanded, catching the human in a stiff glare, “You don’t know anything about me.”

That laugh again.

“I know plenty.”

Sans narrowed his eye sockets, pupils retracting into tiny pinpricks of light. 

“We’ve done this song and dance before, haven’t we?” it was a question, but at the same time a statement. Sans already knew the answer - even if he couldn’t remember it. Another sentence rose in his throat, bubbling up with a creeping feeling of despair and malice.

“No no, don’t tell me,” the kid interjected before Sans could speak, a giggle bouncing their shoulders, “Let’s just  _ get to the point! _ ”

Before the sentence had even ended they sprung forward, producing a knife. Sans gave a surprised start, and only at the last minute realized he had an attack prepared. With a snap of his fingers, he launched the rows of bones at the kid, the grating attack interlocking in a V shape to hit the child. There was a hitch, like for a second time stuttered. Sans felt it more than he saw it. One, two, three hitches. The child dodged with practiced ease. 

Sans reached out a skeletal hand, a blue aura surrounding his fingertips. He clenched his hand, gripping the air, and the human’s soul gave a  _ ping!  _ as he grasped it. When held like this, it seemed like the soul could almost be fragile, like if Sans just squeezed hard enough it would shatter beneath his touch. But he knew better - he wasn’t sure how, but he knew. Knew he couldn’t exert that kind of force. Maybe if his stats were higher, maybe if he hoped hard enough and had enough faith in himself. Maybe if he was Papyrus.

But that’s just silly. If he were Papyrus, he wouldn’t be trying to kill a child. If he were Papyrus he’d be better than this. 

Sans’ hand shook, his grip faltered for a second. He gave a harsh sigh, pausing as he tried to find his resolve. This should be easy. He could just throw the kid off the side of the cliff and this fight would be over. In spite of himself, all he could manage to do was toss the kid backwards into the snow.

The human gave a grunt, watching their own HP drain from the hit. But in short order they had stumbled to their feet again, their now familiar smile twisting back into shape across their face. They lunged forward again, wickedly fast and manic with laughter, exhilarated by the adrenaline now pumping through them. 

Sans had half a mind to just let them hit him. His resolve was draining quickly, along with his strength. Why was he even doing this anyway? What was the point? Had there ever been a point?

Sans launched another halfhearted attack, just enough to keep the human back. 

“Why are you playing around Sans?” their laugh was harsh against the chill in the air, “We both know you can do better than that.”

Sans glared in the kid’s direction.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Nothing.”

“Waiting for Papyrus to come save you?” the child crooned, “You and I both know if I get to Papyrus he’s going to wind up dead. Why stall?”

_ Was he  _ stalling? What  _ that  _ what this was?

Suddenly the child gave a wild laugh, one that ripped through their teeth and shocked Sans out of his stupor, “ _ Speak of the devil...!” _

Sans spun around to face the bridge, panic seeping into his bones. Papyrus was  _ not  _ allowed to be here! He wouldn’t understand, he wouldn’t -

Sans grinned, a bitter, ragged smile that put a bad taste in his mouth. Papyrus wasn’t there. Papyrus wasn’t anywhere in sight. Well wasn’t he just the stupidest skeleton to ever grace the face of the Underground? He would’ve melted into the snow if it were possible - impending doom and all. 

A bloom of pain erupted through his chest. The kid had a hand clenched on Sans’ shoulder, pulling him backwards while the grip of the knife pushed his ribcage forward. They were laughing again, giggling in sick glee as they held him there. Sans stared in mild bafflement at a point in the center of his chest where the fabric of his hoodie stuck out a bit, forced forward by the tip of the knife. It was weird to look at.

The child released him, letting him fall.

“You still want to know what my  _ game  _ is?” they were kneeling down now, their face close to his, “Fight me for real next time and I’ll tell you.”


	10. Things Are A Little Worse Than I Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which someone panics and... well... there's a good reason why.

Sans lay in bed for a while contemplating what he remembered of his dream. This one had been different - noteworthy. His brain clung to it more. He could remember. A mist covered it, and he could already feel himself forgetting details, but still he remembered _something_. Arguing with Papyrus. The revelation he could kill. And that kid. That kid was familiar too. Now, outside of the previous dream, he could sense the familiarity. He’d dreamed about him before. Sans’ brow furrowed in thought as he desperately tried to bring back more of the memory. Nothing. Like a bank of fog blocked any further progress.

    Sans gave a terse sigh and swung his feet over the side of his bed, a few of his bones letting out stiff pops as he did. He felt like he’d been asleep for weeks. With a final yawn and stretch he managed to clamor out of bed and shuffle his way downstairs, slipping on his hoodie and slippers as he went. The house was quiet.

    “Papyrus?” Sans called through another yawn, “Paps you awake?”

    Nervousness crept down the back of his neck like a cold sweat. Nobody answered him.

    “Bro?”

    Sans slipped his hands into his hoodie pockets and began a deliberately slow walk through the house, checking every room, counting his steps, breathing. Step - breathe - step - pause - step - sigh - step - pause. Over and over. Step - breathe - step - pause. Papyrus wasn’t in his bedroom. Sans crept downstairs. Step - step - sigh - step - pause. The television was off, no noise came from the kitchen. It was a small house. Step - stepstep - breathe - stepstepstep - gasp - step _stepstepstep!_

    Sans tossed open the front door, “Papyrus?!”

    Why wasn’t he home? Why didn’t he leave a note? _Where was he?!_

    A thought derailed him, _I’m too late, he’s dead._

    Too late for what? What’d he miss? Why’d he sleep in? _Papyrus is dead_. You don’t know that. _Yes I do._

    Sans took off running, leaving the door open. This was too important to wait for him to find his keys and lock the house. Too important for the handful of seconds it would’ve taken to close the door. Where could he have gone? Why would he leave without waking Sans up? Fear and guilt twisted in his gut and the bite in his chest spurred him faster. He dashed past neighbors, ignoring their stares as he made his way out of town. Grillby gave a flustered call that Sans didn’t hear. He could barely hear the sound of his own feet crunching frantically through the snow. Across the bridge now.

    “Papyrus?!”

    Down the path, past the colored tile maze.

    “Papyrus are you out here?!”

    Dogamy and Dogaressa barked at him as he shot past them. Greater dog barely managed to dance out of the way as Sans ploughed haphazardly through one of his snow poffs. Lesser dog’s neck stretched in confusion as his eyes traced the small skeleton’s path into the distance. Logically, Sans should have been asking them if they’d seen his brother, asking how long ago they’d seen him and what he’d been doing. Logically, he had nothing to worry about.

     _This wasn’t logical._

    Sans kept running, coming upon the final stretch of Papyrus’ puzzles before his outpost. Where was he, _where was he?!_

    His foot came down on the soft snow - _and kept going_. The slushy ground gave way before him to a hole that seemed to swallow him up. Sans’ panic contorted into a mix of confusion and terror. He was falling, and the darkness of what he’d fallen into opened up before him for several feet. He let out a belated shriek and covered his face with his arms, hoping against hope that the fall wouldn’t snap away his one and only HP.

     _Ping!_

    Sans’ soul shuddered against the tight grip of magic that suddenly grabbed him and stopped his free fall abruptly. He hovered there for a moment, shaking, his body inches away from the ground. Both of his hands came up to grip the chest of his hoodie tightly, every part of his body shaking uncontrollably. He could feel his soul wriggling in the magical grip even as he was lifted out.

    “BROTHER? YOU REALLY MUST BE MORE CAREFUL! THAT FALL COULD’VE KILLED YOU!”

    Sans had never been so relieved to hear a voice in his life. He waited as patiently as he could, breathlessly gulping down the fear that had consumed him. Papyrus came into view, his hand outstretched, blue light dancing around his fingertips as he gently set Sans back on solid ground. Sans couldn’t stand. He sunk to his knees, hugging himself, crying. _Everything hurt_. His soul pulsed abnormally hard in his ribcage, like some weird distended heartbeat. And the _shaking_ , shivering like he had the beginning stages of hypothermia. His breathing was in ragged gasps that ricocheted up the back of his neck vertebrae and rattled in his skull. Every breath, every heartbeat, every movement of his body suddenly felt alien and irregular. Was he dying? Was he killing himself? A sharp pain etched through his chest and wrenched a particularly loud sob from his throat.

    Papyrus’ strong hands came down on his shoulders, and he forced Sans to look up. Sans’ manic eyes, pupils contracted into pinpricks of flickering light met Papyrus’. He looked so calm. How did he look so calm?! Sans could feel him trembling - or was that his own shaking he was feeling?

    “SANS, LOOK AT ME,” he didn’t have the option to look away now, “BREATHE, BROTHER. _BREATHE_. YOU’RE GOING TO FAINT IF YOU KEEP DOING THIS.”

    Sans’ grip on his own chest got tighter. He could feel his hoodie pulling uncomfortably around his shoulders and back. He gasped.

    “C-c-ca-an’t…”

    “YES YOU CAN,” Papyrus sighed a deep breath in, and hissed it back out again, “LIKE ME. JUST LIKE ME.”

    Sans shook his head, eyes closing. He wanted to curl in on himself, to hug his shuddering body and make everything stop.

    “SANS YOU HAVE TO BREATHE. SANS? _SANS!_ ”

    “Y-y-you w-we-ere g-gone.”

    “TALK TO ME LATER, BROTHER,” Papyrus hugged Sans gently, cradling him as if he were made of glass. He sighed in deep breaths. In. Stop. Out. Stop. Sans kept his eyes screwed tightly shut and managed to pry his hands from their death grip on his chest. He hugged his brother back, feeling every breath the other took. Forcing himself to breath along. Forcing himself to focus on the sound, the movement, the way his brother’s ribcage expanded and collapsed. And in turn he did his best mockery of the movement that he could muster. I-ino-out-In.In. O-out. In. St. Out. Sto-op. I-in. St-stop. Out. Out. Stop-p. In…

    “THERE, GOOD,” Papyrus cooed above him, “YOU’RE DOING GOOD, BROTHER. KEEP BREATHING.”

    Sans didn’t know how long they sat like that, just breathing in the snow, holding each other. As his panic subsided, his frustration mounted. Frustration with the situation. Frustration at his inability to calm his own panic. How helpless he felt. How _stupid_ he felt. How completely needy and broken up did he look right now? And Papyrus had to see him have a meltdown - _the whole town_ got to see it. A small part of him wished Papyrus hadn’t caught him before he fell in that goddamn hole.

    “ARE YOU OKAY NOW, BROTHER?”

    Sans’ voice grated shrilly past his teeth, hitching every other syllable, “ _Hell no_ I’m not _okay_. I’m _never_ okay. I can’t _remember_ the last time I was _a-oh-freakin-kay_.”

    He could hear the frown in Papyrus’s voice, “SANS, I’M TRYING TO HELP YOU. DON’T BE CRUEL.”

    Sans gave a shuddering sigh, guilt and bitterness twisting his stomach in knots.

    “I’m _so sorry_ you had to see that.”

    His hands slipped away from their grip on Papyrus and once again clutched shakily at the middle of his chest. Every few breaths he could feel a pain there, stinging at his ribcage. He hardly had the courage to meet his brother’s eye again. His soul’s pulsing still felt odd in his chest, his body shook faintly.

    “NOW, WHAT BROUGHT ALL THAT ON?” Papyrus sighed, watching Sans with concern, “I MEAN, YOU’VE DEFINITELY GOTTEN UPSET BEFORE BUT NEVER LIKE THAT. WHY DID YOU…?”

    “I couldn’t… find you anywhere,” Sans brought one of his hands up to clutch at his skull, glaring at the snow. The words rolled through his mouth and sounded ridiculous outloud. Such a stupid thing to freak out over.

    “Y-you never leave the house without saying anything to me,” boy, was that _really_ the only reason he’d freaked out so much, “And I was alone and I thought something happened to you? I don’t know I just… I lost it. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t find you I…”

    Sans gave a defeated sigh and finally looked up at Papyrus, “I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.”

    Papyrus flashed his brother a tired smile, “WHY ARE YOU SORRY? IT’S OBVIOUSLY MY FAULT FOR NOT TELLING YOU I WAS LEAVING THE HOUSE.”

    He gave a soft _nyeh_ of laughter, “YOU WERE RESTING SO WELL, I DIDN’T REALLY HAVE THE HEART TO WAKE YOU.”

    Sans allowed a small laugh to escape his throat, “Now you’re the one who’s crazy. You hate it when I’m lazy, remember?”

    Papyrus grinned, “WELL SOMETIMES IT’S NICE TO KNOW YOU’RE HAPPY.”

    Sans rubbed the back of his head bashfully, all the more ashamed that he’d freaked out so badly. Papyrus had just been trying to be nice. Goddamn it.

    “Uh…” Sans cast his gaze over to the pit he’d fallen into, “... so… thanks for the save…? What _is_ that? I don’t remember that being there.”

    “AH, YES,” now it was Papyrus’ turn to look uncomfortable, “WELL I… I WAS MULLING OVER MY PUZZLES YOU KNOW… HAVE TO KEEP THEM GOOD FOR IF A HUMAN ARRIVES NYEHEH… AND WELL I REALIZED THAT THE PUZZLES I CURRENTLY HAVE CAN’T REALLY SLOW DOWN A HUMAN CAN THEY? NOT ONE WHO’S REALLY DETERMINED TO GET THROUGH THEM ANYWAY.”

    Sans blinked at his brother surprisedly, “Woah woah woah. You _made_ that? This morning?!”

    Not knowing what else to do, Papyrus simply nodded.

    “Well you work harder than even I give you credit for bro,” Sans said, managing to stumble to his feet, “But you could really do a number on someone with that thing.”

    Papyrus flashed him a horror-filled look, and Sans held his hands up to calm him down.

    “I  mean, you wouldn’t _really_ hurt anyone. Well… besides me, but we both know I’m kind of pathetic when it comes to HP. And you’d probably give a human a good scare. But someone could sprain a leg in that thing, or lose a handful of HP.”

    Papyrus seemed to relax a bit - but only slightly, “WELL YES. I TOOK THE TIME TO WARN ALL THE FOREST RESIDENTS ABOUT THE NEW TRAPS. THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO STAY OUT OF THIS PARTICULAR AREA UNTIL I’M FINISHED. I’M TRYING TO WORK OUT A WAY OF MARKING THEM SO WE CAN SEE THEM BUT THE HUMAN CAN’T.”

    “Oh,” Sans hummed, “Well that would… help… uh… have any ideas so far?”

    Papyrus opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. He shook his head, and then waved a hand to dismiss the topic altogether.

    “WE SHOULDN’T BE TALKING ABOUT THIS,” he finally chided, “IT WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA ON MY PART! MUCH TOO DANGEROUS AND UNDERHANDED. AFTER ALL, A HUMAN SHOULD BE GREETED WITH HONOR AND DIGNITY - AND PUZZLES! NOT TRAPS LIKE THESE.”

    “Are you sure bro?”

    “IF I WASN’T SURE BEFORE I AM DOUBLY SURE NOW,” the confidence that returned to Papyrus’ voice massaged away the last feelings of bitterness and guilt clinging to Sans, “I WILL HAVE TO FILL THIS BACK IN. BUT FOR NOW… YOU HAVEN’T HAD BREAKFAST YET HAVE YOU?”

    Sans gave his brother a soft grin, “No I haven’t. And uh… I left the front door open. In the hurry. So we should uh… fix that.”

    Papyrus gave an exasperated sigh and clapped his face with his hand, “YOU DID _NOT!_ ALRIGHT SANS, LET US RETURN TO SNOWDIN AT ONCE!”

    Sans laughed ruefully as his brother strode off, taking one last look at the ominous trap before following.

    Since when did Papyrus, _his_ Papyrus, ever think of something insidious as that?


	11. How Do You Lucid Dream?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a few minutes of breathing space and wonky dreams are discussed.

The house was frigid when they returned, chilled to the same temperature as the air outside Snowdin. Good thing neither of the brothers had skin. While the bite in the air was a little uncomfortable, it did them no harm. It would take forever to get the house warm again though. It made Sans faintly wish they had a fireplace or something similar. 

Papyrus entered the kitchen and the house seemed to liven at his touch. Master chef he was not, but he could definitely warm up the chilly living space with his presence. The burners on the stove came to life, the oven heated, the air hummed with busy noise. Sans sat on the couch and watched from a distance, feeling relieved. And he felt tired. He’d definitely gotten his exercise in for the day… and managed to give everyone in town a nice spook to boot. He hadn’t been able to stop his blush when people stared at him, and once had even pulled his hood up over his head to hide his flustered face. Yep, this was something he wasn’t going to live down for a while.

Just one more thing to feel nervous about.

But that was something for future Sans to deal with. Present Sans was just basking in the feelings of comfort that were washing over him now and trying not to let it lull him to sleep. A nice dreamless sleep that would wrap him up like a warm blanket and keep him safe from the random noise that kept his nerves on edge and his heart anxious. Sleep. Yeah that sounded pretty nice actually.

Sans gave a start, suddenly wide awake. He sighed and allowed himself an exasperated eye roll, “Awww  _ damn  _ it!”

“BROTHER, WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE!” Papyrus chided from the kitchen, “WHAT IS WRONG?”

Sans sighed, “I had a crazy dream last night! And I was trying so hard to remember it this morning.”

There was a pause. Papyrus let out a somewhat strained, “O-OH? AND… WHY DID THAT REQUIRE SUCH LANGUAGE?”

Sans hopped to his feet, “I’ve forgotten everything about it now, that’s why!”

He walked over to lean against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed in a lazy pout, “I feel like it was important, ya know? I mean, it was different or something? I dunno. I wanted to remember.”

Sans tapped a foot on the ground, thinking, “Wish there was something I could do about it.”

Papyrus shrugged from where he stood stirring spaghetti, “WELL BROTHER I FIND THAT IT IS MUCH EASIER TO REMEMBER WHAT YOU’VE DREAMT IF YOU WRITE IT DOWN FIRST THING.”

“Really? You keep a dream journal bro?”

Papyrus hesitated, “WELL… NOT ANYMORE. BUT DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN I WAS YOUNGER AND KEPT HAVING THOSE STRANGE DREAMS? THOSE DREAMS ABOUT THAT GHOST FIGURE.”

Sans nodded slowly, “Uh… yeah. You used to wake me up every night. You kept track of those?”

“YES INDEED!” Papyrus gave a proud smile, “THE MORE I WROTE THEM DOWN, THE MORE I REMEMBERED WHAT HAD HAPPENED IN THE DREAMS. IT TOOK A WHILE, A FEW WEEKS BEFORE I COULD REMEMBER EACH ONE FULLY. BUT EVENTUALLY I WAS ABLE TO WORK OUT WHAT WAS HAPPENING AND… WELL… STOP DREAMING ABOUT IT. IT WAS QUITE AN ACCOMPLISHMENT FOR SOMEONE OF MY AGE, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF!”

“Huh,” Sans hummed, studying the colored tile floor, “Maybe it’s worth a shot.”

“I WOULD CAUTION YOU THOUGH BROTHER,” Papyrus’s voice sounded weighted suddenly, heavy, almost tired, “REMEMBERING BAD DREAMS CAN BE EXTREMELY UNPLEASANT. HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED IF PERHAPS YOU ARE BLOCKING THEM OUT ON PURPOSE? THEY MAY EVEN BE THE SOURCE OF YOUR ANXIETY.”

Sams watched his brother in silence for a minute before saying, “You really think that?”

Papyrus shrugged, pausing in his cooking to turn and face his brother, “WELL, I DO KNOW YOU HAVE BAD DREAMS SOMETIMES. SOMETIMES WHEN I AM AWAKE BEFORE YOU I CAN HEAR YOU STRUGGLING THROUGH THEM. I EVEN ASKED ALPHYS IF I SHOULD BE WAKING YOU.”

Sans blinked at his brother dumbfoundedly.

“BUT SHE SAID UNLESS YOU WERE GETTING VIOLENT THAT IT WAS BEST TO JUST LET YOU SLEEP THROUGH IT,” Papyrus rubbed the back of his head nervously, “AND THAT WAKING YOU MIGHT MAKE YOU MORE TIRED. AND YOU ALREADY SLEEP QUITE A LOT BROTHER.”

“Uh…”

“AND WHILE I DID NOTICE THEY SEEMED TO BE BOTHERING YOU, I FIGURED YOU WOULD EVENTUALLY BRING THEM UP TO ME SHOULD THEY BECOME AN ISSUE. BUT YOU NEVER REALLY TALKED ABOUT IT AND I DIDN’T WANT TO BRING THEM TO YOUR ATTENTION. I WAS A BIT AFRAID THAT MAYBE YOU WERE WORRYING ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE, AND BRINGING UP THE DREAMS MIGHT JUST ADD TO THE PROBLEM? NOT THAT YOU’RE A PROBLEM OR ANYTHING, BROTHER, YOU KNOW I WOULD ALWAYS HELP YOU NO MATTER HOW YOU’RE FEELING!”

“... yeah…” 

Papyrus took a moment to study Sans warily, “YOU… DON’T FEEL NERVOUS  _ NOW _ DO YOU…?”

Sans opened his mouth and closed it a few times, trying to figure out what to say. Finally he managed a soft sigh and crossed his arms behind his skull. A grin stretched across his face.

“No I don’t feel nervous,” he paused and then amended, “Well, more nervous than I normally feel, heh. You’d think a skeleton wouldn’t have a nerve problem.”

Papyrus gave a  _ tsk!  _ and rolled his eyes, “PLEASE DON’T TRY TO DETRACT FROM THIS WITH YOUR HORRIFIC SENSE OF HUMOR SANS. THIS IS IMPORTANT.”

Sans chuckled, “Hey, you can’t blame me for  _ tendon  _ to lighten up this stuff, bro. I don’t like serious talk. ‘Specially about my own issues.”

Sans grinned as his pun was rewarded with a heavy sigh from his brother. He gave a heartier laugh this time, “Alright alright! Puns aside, the journal idea still sounds like a pretty good one. A little  _ dorky _ , but it can’t hurt. Not really feelin’ a trip to the city to shop around though.”

Sans picked at one of the drawstrings on his hoodie thoughtfully for a minute, “The old man in Waterfall has a lot of junk though. Wonder if he’s got something like that I could use?”

Papyrus let out a disgusted noise and turned back to his cooking, “GERSON? HIS ENTIRE STORE NEEDS A GOOD CLEANING! I SWEAR EVERYTHING IN THERE CAME FROM THE HUMAN GARBAGE SPILL AT SOME POINT.”

“Humans  _ do  _ have some neat stuff,” Sans chuckled, “You can’t really blame him for looking through it when the dump is so close to his home. I know a shortcut there, I think I’ll stop by now, before my laziness attacks.”

Papyrus paused once again in his cooking, “WHAT? BUT YOU HAVEN’T EVEN HAD BREAKFAST YET, AND I’M ALMOST DONE!”

Sans was already heading for the door though, “Don’t sweat it bro! I’ll be back before you have time to burn the sauce! Speaking of which, do you smell something?”

Papyrus let out a loud shout just as Sans stepped through his shortcut.


	12. So That's How Time Works

Sans dropped from his shortcut just outside the cave where Gerson kept his store. He smirked, breathing in the damp and cool air of Waterfall. If he were completely honest with himself, he’d have to admit that Waterfall was probably one of the most beautiful places he could ever visit in the underground. There was never any weather here, unlike in Snowdin where facsimiles of storms could occasionally pick up. There was a constant sound of trickling water, the hushed whispers of echo flowers made their way through the ambiance. The silent static of this piece of their world seemed to reverberate with a haunting serenity, gilded in colors of blue and teal. If Sans ever needed to think or calm his nerves, this was a good place to be.

He paused for a second, drinking in the change of atmosphere, before stepping into Gerson’s shop. It was dimly lit, but still nice. Light was cast in purple and blue tones from crystals embedded in the walls and ceiling. A few stalactites and stalagmites jutted from the ceiling and floors, making navigating the shop a little perilous. Odds and ends were stacked neatly on shelves and tables, aligned to help a shopper flow directly to the farthest table at the back where Gerson sat. The old war veteran sat there now, dressed in adventurous looking khakis that seemed to make him seem more rugged and strong than his age allowed him to be. The old turtle had been alive during the great war between humans and monsters, and he told proud tales about it. Just being in his presence elicited feelings of time past and nostalgia.

Currently he was eyeing a peculiar gadget he’d likely either found or someone had pawned to him, turning it gently in one hand while the other stroked a thin white beard that trailed from his chin. As Sans approached the old man sat the bauble down and flashed the skeleton a wrinkled grin.

“Why hello Sans!” he said with a loud  _ guffah _ of laughter, “It’s been ages. How’s my favorite bartender doing?”

Sans grinned, eyes drooping lazily, “Grillby? Doing awesome. Stoic as always. You should pay him a visit sometime.”

Gerson chuckled dryly, “Yes I have been meaning to. So, what can I do for you today, son? I have tons of interesting junk, as you know.”

Sans took a glance around before finally giving a shrug, “I was looking for a journal. Ya know, just for some spare writing.”  _ Because calling it a dream journal outloud still feels a bit too dorky. _

Gerson smirked, “What? Filled the other one up already sonny? Well you’re outta luck, no more have come through waterfall. I’d recommend checking in the city though. They have some fancy shops out there.”

Sans blinked at Gerson, a baffled expression on his face. The old turtle gave a hearty laugh.

“What? Don’t remember buying it? Haha! I bet you don’t!” He slapped a hand on the table enthusiastically, “You were almost too drunk to walk when you came in here askin’ for it. Guess Grillby gave ya a good number of drinks before you came stumblin’ in. Ramblin’ like crazy about dream mumbo jumbo. I had to have Undyne help you home.”

“Uh…” Sans rubbed the back of his skull nervously. Suddenly that feeling of nostalgia he’d had upon walking into the shop seemed much darker, twisting into nauseous deja vu, “I mean uh… I’d ask if you’re sure but… there aren’t really many other skeletons running around here.”

Sans dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to make sense of the twisting queasiness in his gut, “I… d-don’t remember that at all.”

He flicked his gaze back up as Gerson gave a soft chuckle, “Don’t worry about it, sonny, I know what liquor can do to an addled brain. I lived through a war didn’t I? Don’t think we used to drink back then? Haha! Still do. Helps ya forget things, after all.”

Gerson gave Sans a wink, “No hard feelings about it son.”

Sans managed a halfhearted laugh and a strained smile, “Uh… thanks, Gerson. I guess uh… I should go look for that journal then…”

“Aye you should!” Gerson barked raspily, “That was a good book! Belonged to a human once, you know. And humans leave all sorts of interesting things behind in their belongings. Everything they touch just reeks of  _ determination _ .”

The last word hissed through the old monster’s jaw bitterly, and his gaze darkened just a bit, “Intense stuff, determination. Made our lives hell in the war.”

“Y-yeah?” Sans needed to leave, but… In spite of himself, Sans found himself being drawn into the older monster’s ramblings. He should be getting back to Papyrus, but Gerson obviously wanted to talk. How many visitors did the guy get anyway? And how many of them, barring Undyne, actually listened to him talk?

_ I need to find that journal though… _

“Determination is the main thing that separates monsters from humans, my boy!” Gerson exclaimed as Sans faced him again, “Made them do crazy things, terrible things. Sometimes a single human would come back to life dozens of times just to try and kill a single general, or soldier. Or even the King himself! And us monsters could do nothing about it except fight for our lives. Makes time feel strange to you, dreamlike. I can hardly believe it myself sometimes!”

“Yeah,” Sans murmured, “Sounds like it would be hard to wrap your mind around. How’d you ever get through that?”

The old man smiled, though his eyes lacked the humor, “I won’t lie to you, my boy, it was a very hard time. You can ask Grillby, he was there too after all! It was very uncertain at times. And illusive! You know when I first noticed it all? Skips, my boy! Like the world was on a broken record! The world just skipped back a second, or two. And the more we fought, the more determined the humans got, the longer the skips. Seconds turned into minutes or half minutes. Sometimes those minutes skipped back almost an hour! All because of determination. Those were uncertain times lad, nothing to shake a stick at!”

Sans’ brow furrowed and he frowned, “How… Gerson how are you even alive?”

Gerson gave a loud roar of laughter, cutting short only when he realized the skeleton was being serious, “How am I alive boy?”

“I mean, you’re a war hero,” Sans continued confusedly, “Obviously you helped in the war a  _ lot _ . And Asgore too. Why didn’t the humans just keep resetting until you guys were dead? Or until all monsters were dead? Why just trap us here?”

Gerson raised an eyebrow at Sans, a smirk lighting up his features. He leaned forward against his elbows tiredly, “That  _ is  _ the question isn’t it? Can’t say I have much of an answer. I’m just an old monster, boy, and I have no head for science. But… you know what I think son?”

Sans blinked at the only man patiently, waiting for him to continue.

“I think time is like water,” he hummed, “Carving a path. The first bit starts the trend. The first time the humans meet us, they start something that wants to keep going that way. The first human who faced me? I killed. If he had reset, odds would be he would flow in the same direction and die again. And again. Until eventually the trend is set, the water has made a trench it can’t deviate from. No matter how many times that human goes back, he will always lose. Until eventually he submits to the flow and dies.”

Gerson’s eyes were cold, hard, his previously friendly demeanor now consumed by a solemn and heavy seriousness, “The trick to changing time? Doing something before the trench is too deep. Forcing yourself against the flow. Takes a lot of determination to do that, son. Determination that even few humans have. The determination to die innumerable times doing something that is clearly wrong, according to fate. The determination to rewrite fate no matter the cost to yourself.”

Sans shuddered.

“...or…” Gerson paused, “Sometimes, rarely, something out of the ordinary happens. A tree falls over the river, and a new stream is forced to make itself, or find a way to destroy what is trying to change it. A freak of nature. An anomaly. Something like that doesn’t really need determination does it? Something like that just  _ is _ .”

_ An anomaly _ . Those words in particular gave Sans’ mind a nervous twist. He grimaced. Gerson smirked at him, his demeanor softening, though a knowing look still twinkled in the corner of his eye.

“Don’t worry about it so much, Sans,” his voice pitched into pleasantry even if the rest of him did not, “After all, humans are mostly a thing of the past for us, and Asgore only needs one last soul before he has his way with the world. What we went through during the war will probably never happen again.”

Sans nodded, “Yeah…”

He paused thoughtfully for a moment before managing to bring a nervous smile back to his face, “Well it was a pleasure talking with you Gerson but uh… Paps is waiting on me back home, and I really need to find that journal.”

“But of course lad!” Gerson laughed, “You have a nice day now. And good luck!”

Sans had never been so eager to leap through a shortcut in his life. 


	13. I'm Not Stalling, You Are!

Papyrus was gone by the time Sans got home - this time wisely leaving a note behind to let Sans know he was going on patrol. Sans couldn’t help but feel a conflicted mess of reassurance and shame when he read it. And it got worse knowing that the entire town would probably be asking about the morning’s fiasco if and when he left the house. He needed to go to his post, honestly, but a very strong sense of embarrassment made him want to bury himself in his bed and stay there for a few years. That and the strange conversation with Gerson was quickly turning Sans into a ball of shaky nerves, his nonexistant stomach twisting into knots whenever he thought about either encounters. He sighed a quick breath.

Before facing anything though, he needed to find that journal. That focus alone could keep his nerves at bay, even if just for a short while.

He started by attempting to sift through his mess of a room, checking between his mattress and the walls, rifling through drawers, picking up socks only to throw them in another corner and have to check them again. Nothing. Next was his workshop - the one he kept mostly hidden from the rest of town behind their house. He hadn’t been in there in years, and it made him uncomfortable to sift through the analytically clean environment. Nothing again.

Sans pinched the space between his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, letting out a tense sigh as he did so.  _ Where _ the  _ hell _ could he have put the darn thing? He only had so many places he ever visited, and he didn’t exactly have any friends he just handed things like that out to for safe keeping. With one last attempt at searching, he warped his way to Waterfall. 

Waterfall probably wasn’t the best place in the world to keep a journal given the soggy environment. It could be so easy to completely destroy any reading material that came through there with the constant drips and dives water took through the earth here. But there was one place he could consider just a bit safe. Less than halfway through the maze of tunnels, crystals and water was a secluded little cave tucked away beside the river that fed the rest of the underground. It took some effort to get to - the pier that had once connected it to the rest of the tunnels had broken down enough that you could no longer cross to it, and it took some finagling of the bridge seeds in the area just to make it accessible. But if you were Sans it took just a single, clever shortcut.

Sans stepped into the cave, the sound of water and the subtle whispering of a nearby echo flower greeting him as he arrived. The room was small, dimly lit by the glowing flower and crystals that pulsed with bioluminescent light. There was also a bench here, warn and lonely. The room held a feeling of sad familiarity, a depressive and numbing feeling that washed over Sans like cold water. He shuddered despite his inability to feel cold. 

He ran a hand across the bench as he walked by it, eyes glowing dimly, heart sighing. He didn’t like this place. He liked it less than the workshop at home. Hazy snatches of dream-like memories floated to him, times when Sans felt lost and sad, half panicked with anxiety, bitter and empty. He couldn’t remember the circumstances behind the events. The feelings could very well be the remnants of dreams of his that he couldn’t remember now, who could know for sure?

_ “I just couldn’t handle the responsibility.” _

Sans settled his gaze on the lone echo flower in the room,listening as it echoed back to itself the same distorted sentence over and over. It was Sans’ voice but it lacked any emotional conviction or drive. It sounded hollow, resigned. 

Sans shuffled his way around the room, glancing around the bench, skimming around the walls. He picked his way around slowly, growing slightly more aggravated the longer he went without finding what he was searching for. And also growing more suspicious. Sure, if he’d been drunk when Gerson had sold it to him he probably wouldn’t remember where he left the darn thing. But… if he was honestly that far gone, he couldn’t really imagine the old man being able to sell Sans anything with a clear conscious. Gerson wasn’t the kind of monster to just take advantage of someone who was in a compromising position like that. 

And then there was the fact that he couldn’t find it now. Sans knew himself. He knew he was a lazy slob. He didn’t have complicated systems for keeping his belongings. Anything and everything he owned passed through his room at some point, and most of the time it never left. And while his room definitely wasn’t clean, it wasn’t dirty enough to just swallow things up and make them impossible to find. Sans had long past the point where he was comfortable enough to stash things in his workshop. And this place? This was where Sans came to  _ hide  _ things… and to hide  _ from _ things. 

Sans paused on his second loop around the place, his foot tapping lightly against a piece of the wall. It twitched at his touch, threatening to fall over. He knelt down and picked it up, marveling that he’d even found it. The journal. The cover was purpled grey, not unlike the color of the wall it had been propped so smartly up against. If the cave had been well lit he would have seen it almost instantly, the smooth binding sticking out harshly against the roughened walls. But in the dim, cool blue lights and greying shadows that filled this particular space the book had blended right in. He would have missed it completely if he hadn’t been shuffling his feet. 

“Well…” Sans sighed out loud, “This doesn’t bode well.”

_ “This doesn’t bode well…. responsibility…” _

Sans glanced back at the echo flower, glowering as it began repeating the new sentence, adding it to its meaningless whisperings. He suppressed a nervous shudder.

_ “Couldn’t handle the responsibility… this doesn’t… doesn’t bode well… couldn’t handle… couldn’t…”  _

…

One last shortcut later and Sans was at his post in Snowdin, shaking slightly, everything about him feeling weary. The difference between the air here and the air in Waterfall sent a siver through his bones. The cold and fatigue left him feeling brittle. The sharp taste of the icy air bit at his mouth. Sans’ insides gave an unexpected twist - but for once it wasn’t from nerves. He grimaced. He still hadn’t eaten.  _ Whoops. _

“Note to self,” Sans muttered, “One jog around town plus four wrinkles in time and space equals  _ way  _ too much work for one day.  _ Especially  _ on an empty stomach.”

He huffed a small laugh into the cool air, “And Pap says I’m lazy.”

Sans allowed himself a muffled groan as he collapsed at his station, pulling the small journal from his hoodie pocket as he went. It was barely larger than the length of his hand, and as he flipped through the pages uninterestedly he noticed that nearly half of them were covered in his own, slightly illegible scrawl. He scowled, clicking a fingerbone against the woodwork thoughtfully. This was the product of  _ way  _ more than one drunk nights’ worth of writing. 

He didn’t read them yet, choosing instead to procrastinate by criticizing his own handwriting. The lowercased letters all scrambled together into a mesh of run on sentences and occasional, sketchy paragraphs of lists and descriptions. A few times he noticed the unmistakable damage left on the pages from moisture, droplets that must have made their way into the pages while the journal sat for who knew how long in the darkness of Waterfall. It warped the words and turned his rough script into a globby mess of smudged characters and ink. Sans finally flipped to the last page with writing on it. The writing here was desperately sloppy,  _ drunk  _ sloppy. Sans whistled through his teeth.

Whenever he got the nerve to read this, it would be a trip, that’s for sure. The handwriting had to be bad if even the reader had trouble making it out.

Sans yawned and stuffed the journal back in his pocket, fatigue making the lights of his eyes dull. He rested his head on his crossed arms, blinking slowly at the snowscape around him. He could feel himself slipping into a quiet doze. He smiled. Just a few minutes couldn’t hurt.


	14. A Wild Flashback Appears!

Sans sighed his way into sleep, aware of the pulsing of his own soul as it slowed. His breathing deepened. Just a few minutes. Papyrus probably wouldn’t be around this way in a while right? He could get a few minutes of sleep in. Just a few more -

_ “-minutes Papyrus and this will be all over okay?! Stay with me! Papyrus?! PAPYRUS!” _

Sans fell over with a started gasp, toppling into the snow. His voice rose up in his throat, threatening to rip past his clenched teeth with a garble of noise. But instead of ripping free in a cry or anything else, it stuck there, catching in his windpipe and clawing a tight hold.

_ “No no no… nonononono!” hurting. sobbing. wailing. _

Sans lay there on his back, eyes looking up at the cavernous ceiling as it arched almost infinitely above him. He didn’t really see it though. He couldn’t really see much of anything. He couldn’t  _ feel _ anything. His fingers twitched but his hands refused to move. His eye sockets were stretched open, the lights of his eyes were expanded circles, flickering a faint cyan. Sans was faintly aware of a tightening in his chest, he’d forgotten how to breathe. Everything was faded and blurry.

_ His voice was screaming, ripping through the stillness around him. A soft laugh piped up behind him. _

_ “This happens all the time.” _

_ “Aren’t you used to it by now?” _

_ “Haven’t you given up yet?” _

_ “... you  _ let _ this happen… didn’t you…?” _

The world was turning grey, and then tinging black. It edged at the corners of Sans’ vision like a slowly rising tide. A tinny, ringing noise hummed in his head. Sans blinked.

That was all his body needed. Sans’ body convulsed as he was suddenly freed from whatever strange spell that had held him there, his mind rushing back to the surface of reality as if he’d been held underwater and was just now allowed to surface. He gasped in a shuddering breath so deep he was forced to cough it back out again, his body in shock of the sudden onrush of air. He rolled over and lifted himself shakily on his hands and knees, flashing pinpricks of light blooming across his vision as he did so. He crouched there, coughing, breathing, shaking. The hallucinated pinpricks of light he saw swam and slowly faded like fireflies blinking out. His chest heaved and he groaned.

“What. The.  _ Hell _ ?!” Sans gasped fiercely, finally finding the strength to wobble to his feet. He swayed unsteadily as he stood, a second set of lights flashing forward across his field of view and threatening to send Sans pitching back into the snow again. He waited, breathing in the cold air in deep huffs as the hypnotic light show once again died down. With shaking hands he brushed snow off his clothes.

“Alright!” He yelled at nothing in particular, his voice letting out a hoarse crack as he spoke, “Look, higher power thing if you exist up there! This isn’t funny! You can stop screwing with my life now!”

Sans gave a ragged laugh and stuffed his hands roughly in his pockets, “I like jokes but I  _ way  _ prefer to  _ not  _ be the butt of them, if you know what I mean!”

A peal of laughter split the air, making Sans jump. He stumbled over his own slippered feet and with a startled gasp toppled back over into the snow. This time when he glared at the distant ceiling, it was very intentional. A frown screwed up his features. Sans slammed his fists angrily into the snow at his sides and propped himself up into a sitting position, his mouth open in the beginnings of a bitter shout at whoever had started him. The sight before him wiped the anger from his face - replacing it instead with confusion. His soul gave an unnatural quiver and he snapped his mouth closed.

A golden flower unfurled itself in the snow at his feet. It turned to face him sentiently, a pleasant smile lighting its features.

“So the town fool strikes again I see,” it hissed out its shrill laughter, stem shuddering excitedly, “Jeez Sans, I knew you were a screw up, but today was just marvelous!”

Sans narrowed his eye sockets at the creature, “You’ve been watching me?”

“Well of course!” the flower seemed genuinely happy at this, bobbing back and forth on its stem, “You always were so unpredictable Sans. So interesting to watch. And so  _ weak. _ ”

The last word hissed past teeth that were suddenly barred and sharp, the voice dripping tar and quivering in pitch, “It’s your weakness that makes you feel like this you know.”

Sans felt uncomfortable just looking at the flower, his soul squirming around fleetingly in his chest. It wasn’t right. But at the same time, it wasn’t altogether different from normal monsters was it? Why did this particular thing feel so  _ wrong _ ? Sans curled his legs closer to his chest almost unconsciously, wary of being any closer to the strange talking flower than he had to be.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sans said with a stiff glare in the flower’s direction, “What even  _ are  _ you?”

“Awww…” the little monster pouted, sticking out its bottom lip teasingly, “You really don’t remember me? That’s a shame. You really wanted to forget everything  _ that badly _ .”

Sans blinked at the flower, “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do,” its voice pitched into a purr, “You can never really forget everything can you? Not completely. You hurt. You dream. You  _ struggle _ . Hehe! You even panic over nothing.”

The once contented bobs the creature had made now jerked back and forth like a cat flicking the tip of its tail before a pounce, or a cobra before a strike. The movements were fast, erratic and deadly. Sans was surprised at the amount of reserve it took him to keep from flinching whenever the creature twitched one way or another. Once or twice it let out a tug that was harsher than the others, and Sans squinted a bit in response, his body conditioned against whatever this little creature was doing.

“Why, it all has to be for a reason doesn’t it? It’s too easy to believe you’re suffering just because you were  _ born  _ that way,” a giggle escaped the flower’s sharp teeth, a glint entering its eye, “Or maybe you  _ were  _ born this way, Sans. Born to always be too weak. To always feel the pain but never do anything about it. To watch and never really play the game until it’s a bit too late.”

A loud noise echoed up the path, a very familiar slamming of gigantic doors. Sans shivered.

“Whoops! Looks like time’s up again,” the flower hissed, a broad grin splitting its face, “Now for the fun to start. I’ll be watching you Sans. Don’t disappoint.”

With one last flash of its teeth the flower disappeared underneath the blanket of snow, the only remaining sign that it had ever been was a sunken hole where its head had retreated. Sans released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. His throat hurt from the tenseness he’d forced into it. He rubbed the vertebrae on his neck slowly, standing up as he did. Crunching footsteps snapped his attention back to the path that ran along his post. Dread gripped him tightly and refused to let go, a nervous quake began rattling its way across his body. Sans slipped his hands in his pocket and ran a bony finger across the spine of the journal he had concealed there. He was really starting to regret not reading the little thing while he had the chance.

The feelings of panic rising in him, the tightening of his chest and his soul as it pulsed unnaturally fast - it made him feel like his procrastination might actually kill him this time.

The human stepped into view.


	15. Something's Different

_ Something is different _ .

Sans watched the human come into view, frowning apprehensively. The child was unsettling. Their expression was unreadable, their stride unwavering. They had no weapon in sight, they looked harmless enough. Between pangs of deja-vu and nervousness Sans could recognize this should be a good thing. But it wasn’t. Everything from the color of the human’s shirt to the step in their walk sent shivers down Sans’ spine. He watched them approach, mind working for something to say.

They stopped several feet away from Sans, watching him with a slightly thoughtful expression. Their eyes flicked to look up the road behind him, and then back to meet Sans’ gaze.

The silence between them was tense and awkward.

_ Everything’s changing _ .

“You still don’t remember, do you?”

Sans blinked at the child, surprised. Their voice was reserved, attentive. They narrowed their eyes at Sans, thinking hard on something for a few seconds. Then with a quick dash they sprang forward. Sans grimaced and side-stepped, watching as the child’s attack sailed just out of reach. The human was fast though, and determined. Their gaze was set on Sans. They pivoted on their heel, halting their forward momentum and turning it backwards for a second hit in Sans’ direction. The skeleton sidestepped again, kicking off the ground with enough force to send himself several feet away from the human. Sans’ grimace dipped downwards into a scowl and he settled onto the balls of his slippered feet, ready to side-step again. His magic began crackling in the air around him but he kept it unformed. He needed to see what the child would do next.

The human tilted their head at Sans, arms crossed, rocking on their heels thoughtfully. Their previously blank expression finally broke as they pursed their lips together, gaze slightly distant.

“Well I guess you remember  _ something _ ,” the human mused out loud, mostly to themselves, “I mean, I guess you have no reason to know how to dodge me in this timeline. So you have to remember the other ones somehow, right?”

Sans glared at the human, “Why does it matter?”

This earned him an incredulous laugh, the child breaking their facade even more by flashing Sans a grin.

“Why does it  _ matter _ ?” the child crossed their arms smugly, “Well if you remembered you’d already  _ know  _ why it matters! Reset after reset, playthrough after playthrough you tried so hard to change things. You knew my attacks to a fault. You always knew exactly when I was going to be anywhere or for what reason! It didn’t matter how I treated this world, you  _ knew  _ how everything would end. And you were so hopeless!”

Another short laugh ripped past the child’s teeth, “You were so resigned to what was going to happen that the only time you ever struggled was when I decided to destroy everything.”

Their face darkened slightly, “So why…!”

They sprang forward mid-sentence, slipping a knife from their inventory. Sans gave a start, caught off guard. He sidestepped, throwing up a wall of bones and thrusting them in the child’s direction. The world seemed to stutter for a second as the wall slammed into the child. Once, twice, everything skipped like a broken record. A feeling of hopelessness snaked its way through Sans’ chest as the child dodged on the third skip. His attack churned up the snow but nothing more.

“... why in the whole wide underground…!?”

The child planted a foot on the ground and sprang forward, the knife in their hand was a flurry of steel as they swiped it at Sans’ chest. This time as he dodged he felt the air from the near miss. He danced in a semi-circle around the child, feet touching the ground for milliseconds at a time as Sans struggled to stay inches away from the child’s fierce attacks. A handful of times he managed to churn the ground with his own magic - bones, brittle and quickly formed burst through the snow to land haphazard strikes against the human child. They chipped away at the human’s HP, once or twice causing flutters in time as their health was depleted and then mercilessly refilled.

“...  _ why don’t you remember?! _ ”

One more strike, this time blue, and the child was forced to freeze to avoid taking damage. Sans stepped down, a shortcut wrapping around him and spitting him back out in the same instant. He was yards away from the human now, his breathing ragged and his soul pulsing fiercely in his chest. The ground they’d been fighting in was a mess of ripped earth and disturbed snow. The once smooth and crystal white was now blotched with browns and blacks as the earth beneath was mixed with it. Here and there, spatterings of red dotted the ground - the human child was bleeding. Or had been at some point. Had they healed completely during the last stutter Sans had caused? He didn’t really know. He didn’t really care either.

_ This is pointless _ , Sans felt a tightening in his chest - his despair battling with what little sense of self-preservation that he had,  _ I can’t win. _

The human flipped the knife in their hand, a determined, almost hungry look settling across their features. The earlier thoughtfulness and confidence still danced in their eyes, even as their shoulders slouched with fatigue. They bent their knees slightly, preparing for another spring forward. Sans tensed, meeting the malevolent stare with a glare of his own. He was shaking - both from fatigue and fear, he assumed. His stomach was in knots even though his mind was disturbingly blank. He could feel moisture gathering on the side of his skull, exertion and concentration making him sweat.

_ I’m going to die. _

Sans took a step back away from the human, his mind quickly flipping through the only option he could think of. He could run. One shortcut was all it would really take to get him out of here. But the human was bound and determined to kill something - probably already had. Sans knew with bitter certainty that wherever he ran to this child would try to find him. And how many monsters would have to die between now and then? Then there was Papyrus...

Sans’ expression must have changed, because the human saw it and let out a tight laugh.

“Well isn’t that a sour look!” the human purred, their normally sadistic tone cracking slightly as they attempted to catch their breath, “What’s the matter Sans? You’re not  _ scared _ are you?”

Sans let out a tense sigh, lowering his gaze to the snow at his feet. A thought filtered its way into his head, and he flicked his gaze back upwards to look at the human. Deja-vu.

“What’s your game here, kid.”

It was a question, but at the same time a demand. Sans grimaced at the kid, his teeth clenched so tightly his jaw ached.

“We’ve done this before - doesn’t matter if I remember or not. You’ve screwed around with this world for ages, haven’t you? Why keep going? Why stay determined?”

To his surprise, the child shifted out of their previous stance, almost relaxing at the question. Their heels clicked together and they tapped their lip thoughtfully with the tip of the knife.

“That  _ is  _ the question of the day, isn’t it?” the human mused, their gaze pitching upward to watch the ceiling, searching the air above them for some kind of answer. Finally a smug smile worked its way across their face. They tilted their head at Sans coyly, eyes half closing in a lazy sigh.

“I’d love to answer you,” they hummed, once again spreading their feet apart to prepare for a fight, “I really would Sans. But you know… you haven’t fought me for real yet, have you?”

Sans scowled, his brow furrowing in bitter confusion. He opened his mouth to retort back but the child had sprung forward again. Sans dodged to one side, avoiding the knife as it swept for his torso. Then again as the human pivoted for another slash. With a snap of his fingers a small wave of bones blocked another slash from the knife and managed to leave a satisfying gash in the human’s arm as they went. They charged closer, Sans lurched backwards a few steps to escape. He reached out with his magic, a satisfying  _ ping! _ echoing in the cold air, and Sans tossed the human into the nearest tree with a huff.

They landed in a heap, the air rushing from their lungs with a startled gasp. They stumbled to their feet, grinning angrily despite the ragged breaths that ripped through their chest. They took a step, knife at the ready as they lunged forward. But Sans hadn’t let go of them yet. His fingers curled around an invisible object, through his magic he could feel the pulsing of the child’s soul. He bared his teeth in an exhausted snarl and snapped his arm to the side, breaking off the human’s stride and sending them careening into another tree. There was a sickening crunch, something inside them had broken. But to Sans’ surprise and muted horror, the new wound brought out a bubble of bloody laughter from the child as they staggered to their feet.

Sans scowled and flicked his wrist to the side again, his chest heaving in exhausted gasps as he did. He was getting tired already. Instead of throwing the kid into a tree all his magic could manage was smashing them into the ground. The human bounced twice, flipping like a ragdoll before skidding to a halt in the cushioned embrace of the powdery snow. They lay there for a second, body shuddering and hiccuping painfully. Sans couldn’t tell if the sounds came from pain or laughter - or both. Slowly, shakily, they raised themselves back onto their feet. The grin that split their face told Sans they’d been laughing.

“You’re dying kid,” Sans breathed raggedly, “Not sure how you humans feel about that, but around here that’s not something you really laugh about."

The human wiped a line of blood away from the corner of their mouth, smearing the bright red across the sleeve of their shirt. Their grin was unwavering.

“No no, this is great,” their voice was rattling and wet, blood muffling their words as they slipped past their throat, “You’re  _ still  _ holding back though. That’s hilarious!”

“You’re  _ dying _ ,” Sans’ hand shook on his grip on the kid’s soul. He was tempted to let go, let himself rest for a second, but he knew as soon as he did the kid would come springing for him again, “Nothing about this is funny!”

As if to prove him wrong, the human child laughed, “I’m trying to  _ kill you _ , you  _ idiot _ ! That’s why it’s so funny!”

The kid let out a howl of laughter that choked to a stop. They hugged themselves, shuddering painfully, but to Sans’ disgust, he realized their shoulders still bobbed slightly with painful chuckles. His face contorted into a disgusted snarl, his jaw was set tensely, so much so the ache made him feel like his teeth would crack.

“You’re sick,” Sans hissed sharply, his staggered breaths becoming more labored as his hand clenched around his hold on the child’s soul.

The human finally straightened, an arm still wrapped protectively around their torso. It was obvious the weight of Sans’ magic was slowing them - hindering their movements just like their invisible wound. But the human didn’t seem to care all that much. That blood-coated grin still split their features, their eyelids drooped lazily.

“As sick as you are I’m sure,” they answered nonchalantly, “Sick enough to just let your brother die over and over again for a thousand resets. To give up so much on this world you’d rather wipe all memory of the things you know then face them head on. Heh, you know you’re the kind of coward that Undyne despises.”

Sans’ whole body was shaking, and his magic shook with it. He could see it, the blue flicker of the human’s soul as his control wavered. But he couldn’t help himself. He was too tired, too emotional. Anxiety, fear, anger. They all churned inside him and threatened to make him vomit - assuming a skeleton could even accomplish such a task. He was a cesspool of boiling emotions and nerves, desperately outmatched by this  _ child  _ that stood before him. This broken body that would just keep resetting until Sans screwed up and was dusted.

“At least your brother always faces his problems, even if he is an idiot,” the human took a step forward, fighting against the bind Sans had on their soul and whatever was broken inside their body. Then they took another.

“But you… what? Didn’t have the nerve to kill yourself, but you knew you couldn’t change the timeline. You couldn’t stop the inevitable.”

The human chuckled, pressing forward a few more steps while Sans took one of his own backwards, retreating before the impending form.

“You knew you couldn’t rewrite something that had already been so deeply rooted it was practically  _ fated _ to happen.”

Sans gasped exhaustedly, letting what little hold he had left on his magic fall. He took a few more hesitant steps backwards.

“So you made yourself forget? And look what you did! You screwed up  _ everything _ . The whole  _ timeline  _ is rewriting itself. Making a new story.”

Sans stumbled over a tree root, barely managing to catch himself before he could fall over. For a second his eyes dropped from the approaching form and down to his feet, checking himself as he took another step back. When he looked up again the human was dramatically closer -  _ too close  _ in fact. Their strides lengthened, their footsteps crunching through the snow with purpose. Sans danced back a few more steps, only now realizing how fast his soul was pulsating in his chest. So fast he thought it would burst. He focused hazily on the human, desperately trying to bite down panic. They were  _ so close _ . Had he no magic left? Could he even attempt to conjure something with as exhausted and scared as he was?

He gasped in surprise as his back brushed against something. Sans glanced a look over his shoulder to see tree bark. He was cornered. Panicking. His vision was starting to spin, his breathing speeding up. This was not how this was supposed to go. Wasn't he winning just a few seconds ago?

_ But you knew this would happen,  _ the thought pierced through his panicked mind like spring water through a haze of oil,  _ you knew you could never really win this fight. You never have. You never will. _

The child was looming before him now, grin plastered across their features coolly, the hand that had once cradled their broken ribs now stretched out to grab Sans’ shoulder and force him back against the tree. The knife still glinted in their other hand. For now it stayed a looming threat, withheld but prepared. The human’s hand twitched eagerly as they held it, read for the chance to plunge it forward.

All the dread and fear in Sans’ body dropped from his chest down into his toes, his whole  _ soul  _ sinking in despair. This was pointless. Everything was pointless. He couldn’t stop a bitter grin as it spread shakily across his face. Wasn’t he supposed to be calm? That’s what people said happened when you were about to die. Acceptance or something like that. Instead he was shaking, breathing so fast and harsh he was almost hyperventilating. His soul suddenly felt so bare as it pulsed away its frantic beating behind his ribcage. There was nothing but fragile bones and weak fabric separating it from the monster standing in front of him.

“You know,” the human hummed, “The most amusing thing about all of this is you still can’t save anyone. At the end of the day, I’m going to end up killing Papyrus. You understand that right? You haven’t really  _ changed  _ anything.”

The hand that held his shoulder shook, their fingers bunching like claws into the fabric.

“And you stopped scaring me a  _ long  _ time ago. You’re not a threat Sans. You’re  _ always  _ just going to die in the end. Your existence is pointless.”

Sans was too busy watching the kid’s expression to notice the knife coming forward. The human stepped away from him, letting Sans double over onto himself and clutch at the wound they’d made. His body still shook but his dust fractured away as he did. A feeling like pins and needles crept across his body.

“On the off chance you get back whatever it was that made you so interesting, I’ll say this again,” Sans looked up to meet the human’s gaze one last time as his body shuddered apart, “You want to know what my game is?”

_ Fight me for real next time and I’ll tell you. _


	16. Grillby, do you know something I don't?

“...SANS.”

Sans groaned, as he felt a hand on his arm, prodding him awake. He felt exhausted, like he hadn’t slept a wink. His soul ached.

“BROTHER, CAN YOU WAKE UP FOR A MOMENT?”

“Mnn… Papyrus…?” Sans dragged his eyes open, his vision focusing on the taller form that loomed over him. He gave a yawn.

“What’s up bro?”

“SORRY FOR WAKING YOU, LAZYBONES,” Papyrus flashed him a calm smile, “I WAS JUST LETTING YOU KNOW I’M GOING EARLY TO RECALIBRATE MY PUZZLES. GO BACK TO SLEEP.”

Sans let out another yawn and turned over in bed, his mind too foggy for him to put up an argument.

“...sure thing bro…”

...

He’d been laying in bed for a couple more hours before he finally found himself awake, awash in the bright colors of midday that streamed in from his open blinds. It was impossible to sleep when it was that bright, the glare made its way into his consciousness even when he hid his head beneath his blankets. And a stiffness was growing in his bones that told him he needed to move. With a groan and a sigh, Sans finally sat up, his feet swinging over to hang off the side of his mattress.

He ached. Sans let out a low moan and put his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees as he cradled a sudden pounding in his temples. Every inch of his body protested from some form of exhaustion he didn’t think it was even possible to feel. A pressure built up behind his eyes, something like tears but heavier. His legs and shoulders throbbed dully as if he’d done a workout, every movement sending another ache casually bounding its way across his bones. Sans rubbed his eyes exhaustedly, too wrapped up in himself to suppress another weak groan as it writhed its way through his chest.

“Ow…” he finally muttered, forcing himself up onto unsteady legs, “...Why?”

It felt like a hangover. Or overexertion. Or dehydration. Or all three maybe, who really knew? And he was hungry. This feeling hit him last, but when it did a pang shot through his non existent stomach and twisted through him bitterly. He felt like he hadn’t eaten in days. With a last, bitter grumble Sans shoved his slippers onto his feet and hobbled his way downstairs, not even bothering to grab his jacket - he was too sore to force himself to pick it up off the floor.

“The hell did I even do yesterday?” Sans growled under his breath as he picked his way gingerly down the stairs. In truth he didn’t really care what he’d done, he just hoped he never did it again. Some faint, dreamy version of a memory snaked its way into his mind and told him he’d done a lot of exercise for no justifiable reason. From the feelings now carouseling through his bones, he imaged it involved a lot of magic. Had he been too tired yesterday to even eat anything before going to bed? Maybe that would’ve spared him the exhaustion-induced, magical hangover he was having right now.

When he got to the kitchen he pulled out some leftover spaghetti and ate it cold, too tired to deal with waiting for it to heat up in the microwave. If Papyrus’ cooking was sub par while warm it was even worse cold. All the sauce and grease in the pasta congealed it together into a sticky block of noodles and tomatoes that broke off with his fork in jelled chunks. If he weren’t so hungry he would’ve just thrown the nasty stuff out. In spite of the taste though, Sans could feel the ravenous aching in his body wearing off as he ate. The exhausted pressure behind his eye sockets diminished a bit, the throbbing in his bones beginning to settle.

Something important happened yesterday, Sans mused to himself, eyes half closing lazily as he paused between bites of spaghetti. He had the distinct feeling he was forgetting something. Like he had an agenda he was supposed to be filling. It itched at the back of his skull with a vague yet persistent, nagging worry. His stomach gave a nervous flip - one completely unrelated to the terrible spaghetti. He almost hated this feeling more than he hated being sore. Almost.

With a sigh Sans pushed away from the table and threw his dishes into the sink. He was still achey, but a bit less fatigued. A soft hum of building magic made its way through him again, a small trickle that felt rejuvenating. If he ate more he’d probably feel better, his magic getting a chance to replenish itself further. But honestly he didn’t think he could stomach any more of his brother’s spaghetti, and he was too lazy to make anything himself. Besides, he was late to his post at this point anyway. Might as well just head out - however miserable he would be while out. He grabbed his jacket from his room before leaving, a disconcerted hand searching the pocket for a habit that wasn’t there. Something was supposed to be there. Something for his hand to busy itself with nervously. Sans walked out of the house with a worried frown and a persistently apprehensive, dark feeling.

And his frown only deepened when he realized he was too weary to use a shortcut to get to his post.

Sans allowed himself a bitter sigh before working a smile across his face - a friendly sight his neighbors were used to seeing. He kept his pace fast but still lazy, a slouch in his back and his shoulders hunched. His walk was a peculiar mix between a shuffle and a shamble. He tried not to think about the aches in his legs as he walked.

“Sans!” a bright wave drew Sans’ attention away from the snow ahead of him and to the familiar diner on the far side of town. Grillby stood in the doorway, keys in hand, in the process of unlocking his store for the morning. His flame flickered dully, tiredly. He didn’t look like he’d slept well the night before - he hadn’t even taken the time to iron his shirt, and his bowtie was untied.

“Hey G,” Sans answered back with a smirk, “How’s the light of my life?”

This earned him a chuckle, and a dismissive shake of the fire elemental’s head.

“If you wouldn’t mind coming inside for a moment?” the bartender hissed out soft streams of smoke as his hot breath hit the cool air, “I could use a hand opening up this morning.”

The smile dropped from Sans’ face, “You okay?”

“I will be,” was the only answer he received before Grillby disappeared into the restaurant. Sans cast a glance down the road towards where his post was, sighed, and then gave a quick shrug. It’d waited this long. It could wait a bit longer. He stepped inside the bar.

Sans was surprised to see Grillby was already slumped across one of the barstools by the time he entered. The fire elemental leaned backwards in the seat exhaustedly, elbows braced behind him against the bar counter. His head was tipped back - he’d be staring at the ceiling if his eyes weren’t closed. Sans smirked at the disheveled elemental, collapsing onto the stool beside him with a grunt.

“Rough night, G?” Sans after a short pause. He watched his friend for a moment, and Grillby let out a crackling sigh that sent sparks flying

“You don’t know the half of it,” came the tired answer.

“Having nightmares again?”

The elemental shrugged.

“You talked to Gerson about it yet?”

Grillby chuckled, finally managing to sit up straight. He tilted his head at Sans, “I doubt it would help much honestly. Gerson didn’t really see the war the same way I did. I think he dealt with it better.”

The fire elemental rubbed his face tiredly, “You don’t look so great yourself.”

Sans waved a hand dismissively, “I think I was kickboxing in my sleep or something. I woke up feeling like Undyne’d been using me as a hacky sack.”

This brought another round of soft laughter from the fire elemental, a tired sound that sent shivering sparks about the air as it went. Grillby took a few more seconds to massage his temples before standing up with a groan and walking around to the other side of the bar.

“Want something to eat before you go to your post today?” Grillby hummed, his fire magic bringing the kitchen to life. A wave of heat began billowing from the kitchen, and Sans could hear the soft rushing as fires were stoked.

“Don’t worry about me, G,” Sans said with a tired smile, resting his head in his arms and leaning against the counter, “Get stoked up for your real customers, okay?”

He was met with a chuckle as Grillby disappeared into the kitchen, “You are a real customer Sans.”

The bartender was gone for several minutes, and Sans rolled his eyes as the smell of food began wafting through the deserted diner. The lazy warmth and heavy smells rocked him gently, and with a sigh Sans felt himself falling asleep. Before he could manage to drift off completely though, Grillby set a plate in front of him. The jarring sound of glass against wood brought Sans back to wakefulness. He frowned at the plate of fries and bottle of ketchup Grillby had sat before him.

“G, come on,” Sans sighed, “You’re going to burn yourself out even more.”

The bartender just chuckled in spite of the criticism, enjoying the joke at least. He leaned back against the shelves behind him, nervously polishing an already clean glass with subtly quivering hands. Sans hoped the puns were working to relax his friend a bit - it was hard to tell at this point. Grillby shook his head at Sans wearily.

“I need to keep my hands busy,” he answered simply, “And besides, you probably need it if you’re feeling so tired.”

“I ate at home,” Sans pouted reluctantly, but the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach told him he could definitely still eat more. He moved around one of the fries on the plate noncommittally, trying to talk himself out of the need to eat. It smelled delicious. Finally with a sigh he started munching away, enjoying the feeling of warmth and magic that trickled through his bones. The pressure behind his eyes let up some more.

“Do you want to talk about your night at all?” Sans asked after a pause, letting all thought of puns slip away from the conversation for a moment, “I mean… if that helps?”

Grillby shrugged, slipping the glass he was polishing back onto the shelf and grabbing another to needlessly clean. He let out a sigh, smoke hissing through what should have been his teeth. He gazed down at the glass as if looking for a secret message or hidden script there that he could use to answer Sans’ question.

“Just a lot of dust,” he said shortly, voice quivering a bit towards the end of the sentence as his throat constricted, “A lot of dust and a lot of empty. Nothing new, really. Not anymore.”

The shudder in Grillby’s hands intensified a bit, enough to make him set the glass down on the counter top. Sans gave his friend a concerned frown.

“Maybe you should close up shop for today, G,” Sans offered quietly, “I mean… no one will fault you if you can’t work. Take a breather, you know? Maybe it’ll help.”

Grillby braced his hands on the counter, leaning forward against them as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders, “Doesn’t work like that unfortunately. When I’m allowed to be alone I just think about it more.”

He gave a bitter chuckle, “Ah I wish I was like Gerson. The old man stopped having nightmares awhile ago. At least… as far as he’s told me he has.”

Grillby moved again, unable to keep still for long, nervous. He poured himself a drink from his own liquor cabinet and sipped on it while Sans ate, the two of them enjoying a soft sense of comfort from the others’ presence. At least for a few seconds anyway. Grillby seemed to finally regain his calm, his body relaxing against the shelves behind him. He sighed, his fire sputtering from the alcohol and air that stirred it.

Sans broke the silence by shoving the now empty plate away, “Well, I hate to eat and run, but I’m actually really late for work.”

He gave a nervous laugh, “Papyrus is going to flip a table if he finds out I stayed away this late.”

Grillby sighed softly and nodded, “Yes… it probably is time you get to work lazybones.”

He tapped a finger on the counter, thinking for a moment. He let out a disgruntled huff, puffing smoke into the air before turning back towards his kitchen, “Don’t leave yet. I have something for you.”

“Oh?” Sans’ eye sockets widened a bit as his friend returned. Grillby gingerly held out a small journal, one that was very very familiar to him… though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. A dull ache settled into his chest as he gazed at it, his mouth twisting into a frown.

“Uh… what is that?”

“It’s yours,” Grillby said smoothly, fixing Sans in a curious stare, “You probably don’t even remember you lost it, but you left it here awhile ago. I’ve must apologize for being so forgetful in getting it back to you.”

Sans blinked at the little book warily as if his friend were handing him a vial of poison. Hesitantly, Sans reached out and took the little journal, trying to gulp down the feeling of anxiety that threatened to close off his ability to breath. He was suddenly very conscious of how fast his soul was fluttering around in his ribcage. In spite of it though, Sans managed to force a shaky smile to his face.

“Uh… thanks G. I appreciate it,” he stammered.

Grillby looked unconvinced, but he said nothing about it. Instead he fixed Sans in a measured gaze, gauging the skeleton’s reaction before giving one final piece of advice.

“I suggest you either read it soon or dispose of it,” Grillby said quietly, “It’s not a thing you should keep around idly. Do you understand, Sans?”

Sans blinked at the fire elemental, frowning at the shortness of his tone. He looked back down at the journal in his hands, and then managed a shaky nod.

“Okay, I’ll read it at my station,” Sans returned slowly, wearily, “Uh… thanks for breakfast G.”

“Don’t mention it Sans,” came the sighed reply. Sans stepped back out into Snowdin, stuffing the journal in his pocket as he went. His soul felt heavy.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally get to see what's in that gosh darn journal!

Sans didn't want to read the journal.

It was such a weird feeling really - knowing you were dreading something you had absolutely no reason to dread. At least, no reason Sans could  _remember_. And that was another thing. Sans got the distinct feeling that, if he really had left this thing behind, he'd done it  _very_ intentionally. From the nauseous anxiety that threatened to make his stomach burst, to the feverish pulsing of his soul, to the exhaustion clawing at the back of his eye sockets. He  _knew_ there was something he really didn't want to see in this notebook. But… he couldn't bring himself to destroy it. It was… important. Sans frowned bitterly at the seemingly insignificant object, tapping a finger on the faded leather pensively. Heaving a resigned sigh, Sans flipped open the journal.

The first page confronted him with his own scrawling handwriting, words and sentences rolling together from his habit of leaving every letter lowercased as he wrote. It sped things up when writing, sure, but he never realised how truly  _annoying_ it was to read. Eye sockets narrowing in concentration, Sans traced his way across the pages.

_"_ _Entry 1,_

_wow, this is dumb. never figured i'd be doing this. but it seemed like the only logical thing to do. heheh… things are getting a little outta control. i keep freaking out every time papyrus leaves the house. panicking over nothing. chest hurts. it sucks. i keep waking up exhausted, like i haven't had a decent nights' sleep in years. i've been falling asleep at my post. and man, every time i close my eyes i just_ know  _i'm having nightmares. nightmares like crazy. well… i guess night terrors, would be the right term. you remember nightmares. this though, i don't remember any of this when i wake up. like someone just put a fog over my brain. i've done a little research, nothing much. looks like the best suggestion i found is keeping a dream journal so… here we go. feels weird having a journal that used to belong to a human though. makes my -heheh- skin crawl. this is gonna be an experience."_

Sans rolled his eyes at his own internal monologue. He was right, a dream journal  _did_ sound ridiculous. Was that what this was? He huffed a laugh past his clenched teeth. The next entry was a bit harder to read, his scrawl shaky and cluttered.

_"_ _Entry 2,_

_can't remember much, though from what i've read, it takes a couple weeks of scribbling this stuff down before you really start to remember dreams. anyway, whatever i dreamed last night , it sure took a helluva lot out of me. i woke up in a half panic, if i hadn't had my face buried in my pillow i probably would've woken up paps. okay. concentrate._

_uhhh…_

_yeah i don't remember much. this is pointless._

_oh great. okay. uhh… i remember… yeah like nothing. well. paps was there. yeah. i'm really sure paps was there. and im really sure that was a bad thing. and i think the dream was… in snowdin maybe? i can't remember enough. welp, i'm not just gonna wildly guess at this. here's hoping tomorrow night goes a little better."_

Sans sucked in a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. That was… surprisingly uneventful. The text of the next entry seemed a bit more composed.

_"_ _Entry 3,_

_writing this down first so i don't forget. there was a human. weird thing to be dreaming about. but whatever. and the dream definitely started in snowdin. pretty sure i was following the human around the underground at some point. i remember the core. and i remember asgore's castle. its all still pretty fuzzy but that's all i got. paps wasn't there with me. thats kind of… scary? i dunno, i figured he'd be in my dream somewhere. since i said last night i remembered him being there. then again, i didn't remember much last night so. who knows. i feel like this dream wasn't as scary. or maybe it was and i just can't remember why it would be. this is confusing. whatever."_

The next handful of entries were similar. Roundabout the same snatches of dreams written down repititiously, forming the habit of just sticking with writing in the journal. Sans frowned at the amount of pessimism in each of his scrawled notes. But he didn't entirely disagree with it. All of the note taking, all of the worrying. It  _did_ seem pointless. And his past self - was that the right way to call it? - hadn't mentioned once about his anxiety getting better. Sans sighed. If present feelings were any judge, he'd probably gotten worse.

_"_ _Entry 7,_

_papyrus was in my dream for a little bit. i remember that. and later he was gone. i really hope my brain isn't as screwed up as i think it is."_

_"_ _Entry 8,_

_still just getting bits and pieces. though it's like the fog there is getting… i dunno… thinner? if i just think hard enough on this i'm sure i can remember more. i need to know what these dreams are about. i'm a nervous wreck! it needs to stop!"_

_"_ _Entry 9,_

_this is so tedious. i don't remember anything new. this is pointless. why am i even doing this anyway?"_

_"_ _Entry 10,_

_still pointless. nothing new."_

_"_ _Entry 11,_

_the human and papyrus. there's something going on in this stupid dream with those two. and then me wandering around the underground like an idiot for what feels like hours. tracking the human down. i think maybe undyne fits in here somewhere but i remember she looked funny. i dunno, skewed up somehow. damn it, i'm tired. you know what would be nice? one night without any dreams period. maybe this is a can of worms i shouldn't have opened up. maybe if i just let this play itself out it'd get better i dunno."_

Sans thumbed through a couple of the pages, clicking the fingers of his free hand against the woodwork of his post. The first four, five, six pages were like that. Him doubting why he should even be keeping track of his dreams. Rambling about research on the nature of night terrors and how they were supposed to go away. What their causes were and how he had no idea what were causing his. The human and Papyrus. That got his gut twisting though. Bad news, that's what that was. The seventh page was a nonsensical list of symbols and what their meanings were supposed to be in dreams - his frantic self trying to pull together pieces of an extremely broken up and confusing puzzle.

The eighth page made Sans pause. The writing here was terrible, the page itself blotched slightly with water. The ink smudged a bit, the words ran together, the hand that wrote them shook. His breath hitched in his throat as he read the words written.

_"_ _Entry 21,_

_this isn't a dream. i'm not dreaming. i just. i don't know what to do. papyrus is gone. the human. i_ the text was illegible here.  _why. why would they do this? why to him? he didn't do anything. i don't… i don't understand. and they just keep going i dont…"_

The rest of the entry was just a gigantic scribble that threatened to overtake the bottom of the entry. Just a huge ink-splotch of a that was all the rage and grief of the situation. Sans could feel it in his _soul_ , like a repressed memory unfolding before him. An image of himself curled up in some dark corner of their house, gulping down tears of anger and misery as he desperately tried to take note of what'd happened. And then finally giving in to the whirlwind of emotions, screaming and slashing the pen across the page before throwing it out of sight somewhere in the house. The entries continued.

_"_ _Entry 22,_

_had a dream about papyrus being dead. wake up to see the latest entry in the journal. if this is some kind of prank i'm gonna beat the shit out of whoever thought this was funny. their timing is re-goddamn-diculous. yeah, i had a dream papyrus died. that stupid brat took his head off while he was trying to spare 'em. shit, no wonder i've been having panic attacks whenever pap leaves the house for more than ten f'n minutes. what the hell is wrong with me. why am i seeing this? and why am i so freakin'_ sore _? i feel like i got tackled by greater dog._

_"_ _Entry 22, 2_

_did some quick research. according to this bullshit website, dreaming paps is dead means i think he has qualities i'm lacking? or that i don't need him anymore? hell if i know what any of that is supposed to be. i mean, paps is an optimistic spark of just… awesome. i know that. and i know i'll never be that. i know i'll never be as kind or understanding or strong or…"_

The writing here started to blur and smudge from moisture. Sans smiled sadly to himself. His chest hurt.

_"_ _... need to pull myself together. damn it. need to breathe or something…"_

_"_ _Entry 22, 3_

_whoever thought that joke was funny was right. cuz joke's on me. i'm gonna kill that kid. they didn't stop at papyrus. undyne wasn't even a match. well… she was. its weird. i'll… heh… if i'm right? i'll write about it later."_

_"_ _Entry 23_

_still can't remember the dream all the way. well, i hesitate to call it a dream. i'm catching on real fast. something's not right here. don't know how i ever missed it. well. i do know. i was too stupid to notice what was going on. anyway, i've heard about humans being able to do weird things. i mean, every monster has. determination and all that nonsense. i need to find someone who knows about_ this _though…"_

_"_ _Entry 23, 2_

_talked to gerson. the old monster's like a walking history book and boy is he interesting. he might not be too booksmart but he's wiser than any other creature down here. and did he have a thing or two to say about humans. time resets. that's what's going on. that's what i've been missing. all those stupid dreams? those entries i made earlier about stuff being real? actually wrote it. and the kid just keeps resetting it. i dunno, it doesn't make sense yet. it will eventually._

_old man seemed pretty relieved though. so glad that somebody else could remember. i don't want to remember, but… i'm glad… it helps him i guess. he said he picked up on the resets during the war. that the humans would use them over and over again to kill certain monsters. that's scary shit. why? why would anyone…_ anything _… do that? how can that be worth it? i might be able to justify it if i knew the motivation…_

_no. no i couldn't. this is murder. worse than murder it's genocide. they kill everything. it doesn't matter why they do it. there is no justifiable reason to destroy an entire race. an entire civilization. maybe if it was just undyne, just asgore… even papyrus… i… i could try to understand. i could say they're just scared. maybe they don't know what they're doing. maybe they threw one attack too many expecting to miss. i could… i might be able to do that. but. this. what they're doing. it's not the same thing. why. i don't understand."_

Sans put the journal down, suddenly aware of how fast his breathing had gotten. He closed his eyes, focusing on gulping in air for a few painful minutes. Calm down. Calm down. Breathe. There was no time to hyperventilate now. No time to panic.

Breathe.  _Breathe_.

Sans placed a shaky hand against his chest, feeling his soul pulsing erratically and wrenchingly fast. He clutched his hand there, feeling how his heartbeat swelled in speed as he inhaled, and then slowed as he exhaled. Slower.  _Slower_.

Sans gave a dry laugh and muttered humorlessly, "Worse than… reading a horror story."

It was a horror story of its own. Hard to believe. Ridiculous even.  _Insane_. But… it… made sense. It made sense and it was terrifying because of it. Having nightmares and anxiety about things he couldn't remember. Panic when Papyrus was nowhere to be found with no explanation as to why. The aches in his body, the sharp pains in his chest - these had to tie in somewhere. Magical exhaustion? Because he never really slept? He just woke up in one fresh reset, one lower circle of hell. All at the whims of a human child? A human child who insisted on killing his brother not once, not twice, but innumerable times? How long had it gone on before he realized what was happening? Before he decided to start writing it down.

And most maddening out of all of it -  _why couldn't he remember now?_ Obviously he'd figured it out. He'd cracked the code. The last pieces of the puzzle had fallen together. Why? What was different? What had  _changed? How_ had it changed? His hands still trembled as he picked the journal back up, but he was determined to read it. To find what else he was missing.

_"_ _Entry 24_

_it happened again. the reset. and this time, i followed them through the underground after they… got papyrus. i can't… i can't do anything about that right now. shit i feel so guilty. but he's not really dead, right? the kid's going to reset again, right? and i'll get him back. so i'll deal with saving him during the next reset. i'll be prepared next reset. i'll have a plan. i'll remember. for now, i'm following the kid._

_i saw it. the skips gerson talked about. the kid fought undyne. and she should've killed them so many times. i almost thought… for a second… damn it. it's cheating. that sounds so stupid and childish to say but it is. we get one chance,_ one chance  _to kill this kid and they get dozens? hundreds? thousands? and gerson was right, it just skips. just a few seconds sometimes. just long enough for the kid to get the hang of how she throws her spears. the direction they'll go in. finding patterns in the way she moves. sometimes, when she beats em up too badly they skip back minutes. once they went back to the start of the fight to change tactics._

_gotta hand it to undyne, she kept the kid going for a while. i mean, in real time, the time that actually mattered, the fight only lasted a few minutes. but i kid you not i was standing there for hours. it took this kid hours of resets to get past her. why? why would you do that? she's obviously the one that's supposed to win! i don't -"_

More illegible scribbles across the page, this time simply because of anger - exasperation even. Just the horrible need to get the emotion out without having to use full sentences and words. Jagged scribbles and ink blots cast themselves across the page, forcing the entry to begin again on the next.

_"_ _i can't just sit here and do nothing. the kid's gonna kill me like they did undyne. they'll just keep resetting over and over again but… i can't just let them waltz right up to asgore. and honestly? i don't care if the world resets… i… i don't think i could stand knowing i was the only living thing left down here. just kickin' up dust. i wouldn't… look i'm not trying to say i'd do something stupid. but i'm not papyrus. i get dark. real dark. and the only reason i can stand this, the anxiety the… uh… dark… is because other people are there to distract me. i can't do that alone._

_i'm gonna try and stop the kid. i've probably done this before. maybe this time i'll remember."_


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the journaling continues, the world starts looking a lot more grim, and Flowey starts making himself an inconvinience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a head's up guys, we get pretty dark here. If depressed/guily/suicidal thoughts or implications are a bad thing for you then read with caution!

  _“Entry 25_

 

     _i remember. hell yeah do i remember. that kid. that kid is a freak. but man i gave that little brat a run for their money didn’t i? that was sick. if i didn’t feel like turning to dust right now i’d say i might’ve been kind of cool. didn’t even know i could do that to be honest. i guess there’s just… something liberating about knowing that nothing matters. nothing will ever matter. its pointless. so why bother holding back, right? kid killed me anyway didn’t they? kid probably has a thousand times by  now._

     _heh… pointless to try. pointless to fail. because the kid just keeps resetting. i don’t know if i should be feeling empty or relieved right now. papyrus is back though. i can hear him downstairs. he’s cooking spaghetti, i can smell it from here. damn, i’m so sore. i’m so drained. i feel like all my magic is gone or something. probably… eating something will help. get my energy back at least. heaven knows i can’t heal any more hp. one was enough to teach that brat a lesson, though. twenty gold says i kept them there longer than undyne did. ha, she’d never believe me if i told her._

     _i feel… giddy or something. i don’t really care that i died. i died once. how many. how many times did i kill that kid? how many times did that kid have to reset? man… there was so much blood though. they’re not like monsters. i mean, there are some monsters that bleed but… its special circumstances. most of us just don’t leak. we dust. and this kid. every time he got hit blood went everywhere. it was gross. ugh, i feel sick just thinking about it. gonna have a hard time with that spaghetti sauce this morning. i’ll try not to think about it i guess._

     _ugh. food. i need to eat something. i feel like death. bad pun. good description. that’s exactly what i feel like right now. i feel like ten minutes ago i’d just felt my body split apart and now i’m together and supposed to pretend i slept well last night. oh man. how am i supposed to explain this to paps? i mean, i’m sore as all hell, and as far as he can remember i… wait… what even can paps remember? how did i even remember this world before i realized these were resets? i must have gotten my sense of time from somewhere. oh jeez. this is too much right now. i’ll come back to this later. right now food.”_

     _“Entry 25, 2_

     _so for the sake of humor – and my sanity – i went ahead and asked papyrus what all he remembered from yesterday. you know. just to see how the hell anyone can even try to ignore resets happening. and it’s weird. it’s just weird. it’s like he can remember the bits of the days that matter? stuff that’s different or whatever. and then he’s just… indifferent to the rest. as if the rest of the day wasn’t worth remembering or something. he remembers recalibrating his puzzles, remembers they were inadequate for some reason so now he really wants to go out and mess with them again. but he doesn’t remember a human walked through them, or that he confronted the human at some point. is that how i was? i mean… now that i know it’s hard to believe i ever_ didn’t _know. this is getting confusing. again._

     _anyway, the human will probably be back again today. i need to keep paps away from them somehow._

     _i mean, i know what i said earlier about everything being pointless. if the kid’s just gonna reset, there’s probably no reason for me to even try keeping my bro safe. but… damn it i can’t accept that. there has to be something i can do to keep paps from dying. i mean… it feels horrible. just. everything splitting apart. thinking it’s all over. it doesn’t matter if it isn’t permanent, it still_ hurts _. it still feels real. i don’t want him to have to go through that. and i don’t want to lose him either. it doesn't matter if… it doesn’t matter, i guess. i. still feel like i failed him. like i’m losing him forever. its. really hard to believe when it’s happening that this isn’t the first time. it still feels like the first time._

     _damn it. i keep thinking if this keeps happening it’ll get better. i’ll get used to it. but i shouldn’t have to get used to it. i shouldn’t have to be okay with my brother dying over and over again._

     _we’ll see how today goes.”_

     _“Entry 25, 3_

     _didn’t work. paps is… stubborn. i just tried to talk him out of it a bit, you know. thought maybe he’d listen to me since i’m… i dunno… older brother. kinda mostly did all the raising. kinda think my opinion is respectable. but he insists this kid can be reasoned with. that everyone can be a good person even if they try. well that ‘good person’ just made off with killing him again. i need to try harder next time._

     _please… just_ please _let there be a next time.”_

     _“Entry 26,_

     _woke up before papyrus today and tried to convince him to spend the day with me doing… well you know… anything besides what we’re supposed to be doing. didn’t work. i couldn’t really come up with a good reason for him to be distracted so i guess that’s my fault. when that didn’t work i tried convincing him again that he shouldn’t confront the human. he looked at me funny. even though i’m sure i used different words, i kinda got the feeling he remembers having a conversation like this. shit. don’t know if i like that.”_

     _“Entry 27,_

     _should i tell him about the resets? like is that a thing i’m allowed to do? because right now i think that might be the only way he’ll ever believe me when i say the human is bad news and he needs to stay away from them. but like… gerson never told anybody about the resets. or if he did, nobody remembered after the kid reset again. so would telling paps even do any good? would it even work? i mean, aside from this journal i don’t have proof and… it’s really easy to read crazy into this stuff. i’d think i was crazy if i hadn’t done this half a dozen times already._

     _and the stupidest part in all this? some part of papyrus remembers my arguments with him from the past two resets. and he’s getting better at defending his actions. like, how? okay. make this harder. i’ve got… what… an eternity to figure this out? plenty of time.”_

     _“Entry 28,_

     _i told paps about the resets. true to form he thought i was kind of nuts. well… he looked like he wanted to believe me. he knows i’d never lie to him. but… it's a bit much for him i think. and i don’t mean that in a stupidity sense. my bro isn’t incompetent. he listened without questioning me for a while. it's just… emotionally he can’t do it. and i guess i understand. i mean, he’s so soft hearted. it kind of… broke something in him to think that anything in this world could be that… deranged. and. heh, i couldn’t bring myself to tell him about what i did. fighting the kid. he’d. never forgive me for it, i don’t think. well. he’d forgive me but he’d try to talk me out of it. killing isn’t the answer. murder isn’t necessary. it's a choice and all that. i guess… after you see this stuff… knowing it’s pointless. its an easy choice to make. kid deserves it anyway right?”_

    Sans sighed, bitterness pricking at his soul. He… could remember this. The feelings especially. Wrenching, conflicting feelings that set his heart on edge. And as he read they all came shuddering back to him, coalescing into a mess of nausea where his stomach should be. He sighed a shaky breath, taking a second to compose himself before continuing on. Sans dropped his head into his hands, eyes screwed shut, breathing, refusing to think. The breeze teased at his hoodie as he sat. After a few seconds the lights of his eyes flicked to life brightly, focusing with bitter determination on the open journal in front of him.

    How much longer did he have? How long until the human came waltzing in? The journal didn’t really describe time. There weren’t many whens. Only wheres and whats. Though he supposed in a timeline - _yes, an endlessly repeating, death saturated timeline_ \- as screwed up as this, one with a human constantly resetting everything that was worked towards, real time didn’t matter. What mattered was what was done inside it.

    Sans scrabbled with snatches of memories in the back of his mind, piecing together the changes in the past few da - _resets_. Not days, resets. Because despite the familiarity in the words before him, he knew something about his present was achingly different. He could ask Gerson perhaps. The old man remembered timelines. Could he tell him what had changed? What he was feeling in his _bones_ that was different?

     _“Entry 29,_

     _hey its been a few resets. its getting a bit hard to keep track of this stuff. im just… really achy and tired right now. but i figured i should try and keep up this habit for knowledge’s sake. maybe eventually this will help me change what happens when this kid comes through. still working on keeping pap away from that kid, but i’m not sure what could possibly work outside my physically holding him down. he just doesn’t remember. he has no reason to think that all this is pointless._

     _you know what really gets me though? what keeps this kid going? i mean, you can only kill everything so many times before it gets boring right?”_

     _“Entry 30,_

     _resets are starting to blur together. i really need to keep up with this thing just so i can keep them all apart. i’ve been dropping hints to the kid that i know what’s going on. last reset that really seemed to freak ‘em out. like they didn’t think i’d remember. kinda looked like they were panicking a bit when i told them. by the time they reached the judgement hall, they seemed pretty resolved to still going forward. well fine buddy, i’ll give ya hell. not like it bothers me anymore. stopped bothering me a dozen resets ago.”_

     _“Entry 31,_

     _sorry sorry. i need to keep better track of this stuff yada yada. i just… cant really seem to motivate myself all that well. doesnt matter right? wont change anything. you know, that whole thrill of not having consequences to killing that kid started getting old real quick. i dont feel mad anymore, y’know? just tired. and sore. my chest hurts. a lot. like i think my ribs are gonna shatter or something._

     _you know what’s real messed up though? paps can tell i dont care. like… i dunno his brain must be so weird right now. he still remembers me before the resets, ya know? all the joke making and panicking and… just… feeling things. all that stuff i cant really do anymore. he’s looking at me funny now. kinda worried i guess. i mean, i’d say i cant blame him but he really has nothing to worry about. heh. he should be worried about that kid. speak of the devil - look who just started walking down the road? showtime i guess.”_

     _“Entry 32,_

     _yeah i don’t even know how many resets its been since i wrote in this thing. but holy shit you gotta know about this. so that chest stuff i wrote about last time? yeah its been getting_ way _worse. and i thought it was just me like... having exhaustion or something but paps elbowed me today and i thought my ribs were gonna break. freaked him out to see me crying like that. whoops._

     _wanna know something insane? we checked it out and_ there’s a goddamn crack in my ribcage _. what the hell?? nice and neat, starts on the top right of my collarbone and cuts across to the bottom left side of my ribs. right where that kid…_

     _my chest hurts. damn it. what do i do about this? like is this gonna keep getting worse or…? i need rest. i cant… cant remember the last time i actually slept a full night. that stupid kid. i hate them. god i hate their guts. why do they keep doing this? how long till i stay dead? how long until_ they _stay dead? i want them to give up. i want to give up. but i can’t until they do and it sucks. just let it rest kid. heh… speak of the devil. goddamn it.”_

    Sans sat back at his station, reaching a tentative hand up to feel his chest, self conscious. He grimaced, his whole face in pain from the tenseness in the set of his jaw. With a bracing sigh he slipped a hand under his shirt, feeling across the bones for any hint of what he’d read. His finger bones gently rubbed across his collarbone, tracing a diagonal across his ribs. His finger caught on a groove in his sternum, and he gave a yelp as a pain bloomed in his chest at the touch. It started off dull like a throbbing bruise, the ache increasing in intensity even after he pulled his hand away. It took a few moments of uncomfortably painful breathing before finally it subsided, leaving Sans trembling.

     _Shit_.

    If he doubted before… well… he didn’t now. His hand shook as he removed it from under his shirt.

     _“Entry 33,_

     _i screwed up.”_

    Sans blinked at the passage, unable to make out the rest of the words as they swam together in his hasty chicken scratch. What…? In the world…? The entire passage was like that, an illegible set of scrawl that smudged and hitched together. Sans brought his face close to the page, trying to read it one letter at a time. This was maddening. What had he ‘screwed up’ so badly to cause all that? Just short of going cross-eyed, Sans managed to make out what was written.

     _“they haven’t reset yet. i should be happy but shit. i messed up. what’d i do? oh what do i do now? they. did something new. today. they spared me. they got to my stupid friend schtick and they decided to spare me. and i. shit. i didn’t. i thought. you know since they did that to pap they deserved it. they didnt spare him why should i do the same thing right? so i didnt. i wrecked ‘em. and their body is still there and there’s blood everywhere. i think i’m gonna be sick. can i even get sick? i’m gonna.”_

    He hadn’t even bothered to make a new entry title. Further down the page he continued.

     _“heh. i can get sick. just a bunch of magic mess. whatever that stuff i keep leaking when that kid cuts me open. learn something new every reset._

     _kid’s still there. just. the look on their face. holy asgore i can’t even look at it. they look. so. betrayed. and they’re just laying there. reset please just reset. i can’t do this. i actually… what happens if they never reset again? i cant deal with this. i cant be alone down here. ahhhhh there’s blood on my shirt i didn’t even realize. they were so close when i… its everywhere. its everywhere its everywhere ohmyholy”_

    A drop of color danced across the delicate words and smeared as he’d either tried to wipe it off or just closed the book. Every nauseous emotion Sans had been feeling faded, replaced with a feeling of cold.

     _“got sick again. had to take my jacket off and at least cover the kid up so i wouldn’t just keep… staring. i want to leave. oh god i want to leave and do something i dont know. but where the hell would i go? the only people left in the entire underground are me and asgore!? and what do i tell the king? that i flat out_ murdered _someone? who was_ sparing _me? i… no i can’t think that. the kid deserved it right? that’s how they killed papyrus right? so they deserved that. i’m not a bad person. i didn’t do anything wrong. there’s nothing wrong with what i did. anyone else would’ve done the same thing right? undyne wouldn’t have even pretended to spare the kid, and she’s the only other monster here who’s ever made it past the one-hit-kill status. so i’m okay right? i didn’t do anything wrong. i’m not a bad person for this. they deserved this. i just need to keep telling myself they deserved this. i’m okay. i’m okay._

    Another break in the page.

     _“i’ve literally been here for hours. nothing’s changed. is it safe to leave? is this a trap? what do i do? this has never happened before i dont understand. why. why did that kid spare me. after all the times they’ve tried to kill me why spare me_ now _?? and_ why me _?! why not spare someone who actually deserved to live?! someone who’d actually spare them back?! why me? i dont. i cant. why. why would they do this. why do any of this. what have i done? if i’d spared them this all could’ve finally ended. they wouldn’t kill anyone else. they’d reset and things would actually change. i screwed up so bad. i. i actually murdered someone. it wasn’t self defense anymore i just. why. why did i do that. why did i think that was okay to do. why didn’t i just think for two seconds?! papyrus would’ve spared them. papyrus would’ve done the right thing. why didn’t i just do that. what is_ wrong _with me? i did exactly what that kid did to pap. i. why. why did i do that. why did i think that was okay?_

     _i. i can’t be alone down here. the only thing i can hear in this goddamn hall is my own voice and footsteps. there’s nobody left. i can’t be alone down here i can’t. it’s too much. there’s nothing left. everyone’s dust. i don’t want to be alone down here. i can’t be alone. i can’t.”_

    Another break. Finally the rapid hatching of his hand was dying down, becoming calmer and easier to read. The words still wobbled and shook, but Sans could actually read comfortably.

     _“i’m not… alone… completely. there’s a flower. a golden flower. he’s popped up a couple times now. first time he just kind of… watched me. its... creepy. but i couldn’t really bring myself to make him leave. heh. cant even get myself to leave this room._

     _second time i saw him he was way closer. creepy as_ hell _. he hasn’t talked to me yet. looks like he’s just… i dunno… judging me. trying to figure out if i’m… safe. heh. wonder if he thinks i’ll kill him like that kid would. wouldn’t blame him. haven’t given him a reason to think otherwise.”_

     _\---_

     _“the flower calls itself flowey. charming name. personality of a pit viper. but means i’m not completely alone. he just kept asking me about the fight with the kid. asking me how it felt to… kill them like that. if i enjoyed it. why i shouldn’t have fun if everything is pointless anyway. weed knows a little bit too much i think, sounded like he knew about the resets but didn’t really come out and say anything. the list of monsters that know about this screwed up reality is getting longer i guess._

     _flower did say the kid deserved it… i guess. so…. i should feel better about this. but. i dunno. after talking to that thing, i feel worse. he has this weird backhanded way of thinking. every compliment comes at a price. i get the feeling he’s messing with me. like he wants me to feel like shit. heh. i deserve to feel bad for this. i. deserve a lot worse than just feeling bad. actually. they. they were trying to spare me. they were crying and everything. they were so_ vulnerable _. i thought they’d get mad and come back. i thought it was a trap. i thought they were kidding. i thought… i don’t know what i thought. i just wanted them to die. i’m sick. why am i even still sitting here. they’re not coming back. they’re not going to reset. there’s no reason for me to be here. i should just. i should just. what would happen if. i mean. i should. damn._

     _i’m gonna give this kid one more hour. im tired of waiting. im just… tired.”_

    Sans felt dread like ice creeping down the back of his spine, and a horrible twisting guilt crept into his frozen bones. The memories coalescing in the back of his mind were forming together, giving him pictures of his fight with the human. Of the time he _should have_ spared them. Or was that just his mind filling in the blanks left behind after reading the story? Did it really matter which? No. Nothing mattered. Sans hesitated before turning the page. He… wasn’t too sure he wanted to know what happened after the last entry. It sounded a lot like…

    Sans swallowed hard. He flipped the page.

     _“Entry 34,_

     _well… i’m back. so i guess that means the kid reset then. that… was a mess of a reset, huh? heh… wonder if the kid freaked out when i wasn’t there when they got back. if they went back. who knows. who cares._

     _i guess… i’m never going to be able to undo that. um… yeah not sure what to write here. let’s hope i uh… never… resort to that ever again.”_

     _“Entry 35,_

     _kid got their revenge alright. fun fact: the human doesn’t just reset when they die. they reset at will. kid came back and killed me 6 times before finally moving on. can’t say i didn’t deserve that. my chest hurts… real bad. i don’t want to move. don’t want to do anything really. wonder if paps will believe me if i tell him i’m sick.”_

     _“Entry 36,_

     _saw that weed again today. asked me again about whether i was having fun with all the death yet. said he saw me in the judgement hall when i… uh… anyway… thing seems to have a sadistic streak in there. gives me the creeps every time i see him - which is surprisingly a lot now that i know he exists. i swear he’s following me. if i turn around fast enough i can see him pop back under the snow._

     _seems pretty harmless for now though - even if he sends a chill down my spine every time i see him. wonder what he has to do with all of this. seems pretty excited about something. not sure i want to know what.”_

     _“Entry 37,_

     _just idly wondering here but - you think maybe other monsters have this going on too? cuz i really doubt i’m the only one walking around with a hole in their chest. can’t ask pap. he’s probably forgotten by now that this thing is even here, and i’m not sure i wanna know if he has a gash on his neck under that scarf. undyne though…”_

     _“Entry 37, 2_

     _don’t know how i managed to get the motivation to see undyne but i did. don’t really know how i feel about the results. told her about the resets. told her about the gash i got. the whole time i talked about the resets she had this look on her face like she thought i was insane. when i showed her the… uh… well… she changed her mind real fast. and apparently we match. she’s got a nice, jagged scar where that kid hits her every time - looks like it’s barely healed. really it looks like any wrong move and she’ll rip it open again. asked her what her hp looks like and she avoided the question, but i’d bet it’s getting low and she doesn’t like it. not like she can try to train to get better though. if she does too much moving around she’ll bust that thing open and be in a whole world of hurt._

     _she’s taking it well, all things considered. i mean, she was a lot more solemn with me when we spoke about it. get the feeling she knows if a human comes through she’s doomed. i’ve… actually never seen her that quiet before. okay. maybe she’s not taking it as well as i thought she was. i’d feel bad but honestly she’ll just forget next reset anyway so why bother._

     _anyway, question answered. i’m not the only one. hooray. makes me wonder though - this crack of mine is getting pretty deep ya know. and probably has been getting deeper. and undyne doesn’t look like she can take too many more hits before that slit of hers stays open next time she wakes up. so what happens if this kid keeps going? eventually this crack is gonna go all the way through and i just won’t wake up after a reset. undyne might wake up in time to watch her hp start leaking away, but without any healing magic around she’ll probably bleed out of health before she can get help. pap is probably the same way… anyone that kid fights and kills is probably the same way._

     _i need to stop that kid from resetting. this world is dying. it can’t heal from all these resets. the damage they do just keeps ticking away at the fabric of it’s existence. ticking away until there’s nothing left. and i’m getting tired. so tired. everything hurts all the time and that kid knows my attacks like the back of their hand. heh. maybe i shouldn’t stop ‘em. maybe i should just let them keep going until this world really does fall apart._

     _then maybe i could finally get some rest.”_

    Sans sighed bitterly and turned another page, blinking in surprise at what was by far the worst written string of words in the entire journal. They were jittery and slanted, lilting in between and across the normal ruling lines of the page. And they were abnormally large, taking up two or three spaces instead of the intended ones.

     _“heey so here’s the thing. don’t feel like knowing this stuff anymore ya know? so i’m not. nope. not gonna. managed to hatch up somethin in the lab that’ll make me forget this reset. n maybe the rest of em who knows. anyway, note to me if i find this again - we’re all screwed anyway so don’t bother.”_

    He flipped the page.

    Empty.

    “You’re kidding me.”

    He turned another page. Empty.

    “You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

    Sans hurriedly began flipping through the remaining pages, growling in exasperation as each new one was just as empty as the last. With a bitter yell he slammed the book on the counter before him.

    “No no _no!_ You can’t _do_ that to me!” he shouted, slamming a fist on the wall of his post and making the beams shake. A clod of snow slid off the roof, his hand hurt. An angry heat burned in his left eye.

    “I just _gave up_?!” Sans screamed at nothing in particular, “ _All of that and i just gave up?!_ Why keep the goddamn book then?!”

    “I dunno trashbag, you tell me.”

    Sans spun to face the sickly sweet voice. Flowey grinned at him from the snow, bobbing back and forth on his stem with glee.

    “You…!?”

    “Oh look! So all it takes is a silly little journal to make you remember,” Flowey gave a shrieking laugh, “Well you learn something new every reset!”

    Sans narrowed his eyes at the flower.

    “Ehehe, whoops,” Flowey feigned surprise at his own slip, lifting a pair of leaves to his mouth, “Awww now I’ve gone and ruined the surprise! I’ve read your journal too! You should really work on your handwriting ehehe.”

    “And just what game are you playing here?” Sans demanded, his voice growling past his teeth.

    “Game?” Flowey chuckled, “Why, the best kind! The entertaining kind! After all, you spend an eternity wandering around these resets like I have and you tend to get pretty bored. But look at you! Just when I thought things were gonna get boring again you went and started making it interesting again. Too bad you still can’t change anything though.”

    The flower’s voice pitched down into a crooning purr, his grin cracking his face sadistically.

    “You want to know something interesting Sans? Papyrus still dies at the end. Every single time. And he’ll keep dying and dying until eventually this world just kind of… glitches out! And Papyrus won’t be there anymore! Wonder which one of you will leave first? I mean, you have only 1 hp after all. Think it’ll be you?”

    “What are you talking about?” Sans demanded, “Tell me what’s going on!”

    “Now where’s the fun in that?” Flowey laughed. His face darkened as the feeling of magic crackled through the air, his smile twisting into something closer to a snarl.

    “Oh save your energy, bonehead,” he growled, “You’ve got bigger problems coming.”

    Before Sans could retort back the flower was gone, disappearing back underneath the snow. Down the road, Sans heard the loud thud of two large doors slamming shut.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things start to get mildly more complicated than they already were...??

 Sans hurriedly slipped the book back in his pocket and stumbled away from his post. Flowey might not be too keen on giving him the answers he was looking for, but he figured when he met the kid some things would be explained at least. But… what should he do? Just ask the kid to explain what was going on? He knew what past resets had been like now - their hazy memories swirling around in the back of his brain and confirming what was written in the journal. But he knew that since he’d forgotten the first time something had changed. And what was with this world glitching mess? Would he even have time to figure out what was changing before…? What if this was the last reset he had?

    Sans shook the thought away as soon as it came to mind. No. If nothing else, the gash in his chest could prove he still had time. It was deep but not shatteringly so. Terrifying, but livable. If the world was dying, it wouldn’t be dying today. Finding out exact times was a project for later, one that might have him back in the lab behind his house again. Right now only the kid mattered.

    And here they came, eyes focused tiredly forward, a frown playing at the corners of their lips. When they saw Sans - his normally lazy slouch hunched up in an uncomfortable anger - their mouth twitched up in a smirk. They slipped a knife from their inventory.

    “Well you look angry today,” the human hummed.

    Sans said nothing, his mind rapidly trying to piece together what was going on. His notes hadn’t said anything about the kid attacking him in Snowdin - if the kid had, Sans probably would’ve never made it to the judgement hall to square off with them there. So this was the difference then. They were fighting here. When had that changed? Why had it changed? Just because he forgot how things were supposed to go? That was a stupid excuse if it was.

    “Let’s just get this over with,” the human growled. Was that fatigue in the kid’s voice? A world-weary drip that shuffled just underneath their abrasive tone. Whatever it was, it was ignored. They leaped forward.

    Sans dodged out of the way, his joints creaking bitterly at him in protest. He still wasn’t at one hundred percent was he? He hadn’t healed enough, rested enough from whatever had happened to him in the last reset. A subtle soreness clogged his movements, he felt stiff.

     _Ping!_

    Sans sent the human flying face-first into a row of bones, the kid letting out a garbled screech as they collided with the attack. They stumbled up in time to be sent cartwheeling into a nearby tree, then skidding across the snow. Sans huffed out a tired breath, his hold dropping in favor of sending a few rows of bones blooming through the snow. The human staggered up and dodged the attacks roughly, their movements lacking the complete ease Sans was expecting.

    His notes said the kid knew his attacks inside and out. Why were they so rough at dodging then? They weren’t used to him anymore. This meant Sans hadn’t been fighting them much in this new set of resets then. That was the next difference. Sans hadn’t remembered the kid being evil had he? So he hadn’t been fighting. Or maybe hadn’t had the chance to fight. Or maybe he just hadn’t been fighting to his full potential. Whatever the case, the human wasn't used to being assaulted right off the bat and the fierce opening attack made them stagger, second guess how eager their next headlong charge should be. But still there was a sadistic glint in the corner of their eye - some part of their being enjoying the rush of being torn apart and tossed around. The color of red in the snow made Sans feel sick.

    Sans narrowed his eye sockets at the human, pausing to watch as they once again threw themselves at him. They swung at him, he dodged, another swing, another dodge. Sans gave a strange, angry sort of smile as he dodged a third time. There was a maddening confidence in his movements, one where his body knew what to do and his mind trusted the instinct it had even if he had little rational reason to have the instinct in the first place. He sent a wave of interlocking bones spiraling into the human, his smile twitching as blood danced across the snow. The human staggered, the world stuttered. The human dodged his attack and with a snarl slashed towards Sans’ ribcage.

    Sans’ breath caught in his throat as he sidestepped, watching the blade knick the hem of his jacket. He pinged at the human's soul and shoved, sending the off-balanced child pitching into the snow. His soul flurried harshly against his ribcage - that had been a close one. A mix of terror and anger bubbled in his stomach and his magic gave a harsh pull that made his hammering soul pause a few beats. The gaping maw of a gasterblaster opened over his shoulder and fired at the child as they staggered to their feet. The world hitched once, twice, three times. The stutters passed in less than a blink. On the fourth stutter the child rolled out of the way in time, the blaster carving a burning path in the ice and snow.

    The blaster faded, the magic devolving into a crackling mess of potential energy that filled the air with an almost electric hum. Sans let out an exhausted huff and stuffed his hands in his pockets, hiding how badly they were shaking. He'd only been fighting for a handful of minutes and he could feel exhaustion edging against his movements. Maybe using that blaster hadn't been a good idea.

    The human sat crouched in the snow, staring at the line of sizzling ground the blaster had left behind. They seemed impressed, a twisted grin lighting up their disheveled features. As they stumbled to their feet Sans braced himself, a hand sliding out of his pocket in preparation for whatever attacks he'd have to summon next. The human chuckled.

    “You remember, then.”

    “Not enough,” Sans quipped, his brow furrowing and his face contorting into a bitter frown, “Though I've got the rest pretty much figured out. Not like it's going to change anything though, us being stuck in this nice rut of yours and all.”

    The human gave a sharp laugh, “Oh don't be so bitter. You've already proven things can change. It’s actually pretty annoying.”

    “Good,” Sans’ mouth twitched in a smirk in spite of himself, “I don't plan on doing you any favors.”

    “I didn't ask for any!” Came the ferocious reply as the human sprang forward. It caught Sans off guard, forcing him to retreat and dodge in the face of the child’s flurried movements.

    “In fact!” The human grunted through clenched teeth, “I prefer it this way. You think holding back is going to do you any good? Like it’ll make me _spare_ you? Why would it? Nothing matters!”

    Sans leaped back away from the jabbing knife and pinged his magic against the kid’s soul. His eyes darted around for a second before thrusting the kid into a snowbank, the ice and compacted snow exploding around them as they careened through it. He whipped his arm around, dragging the human across the ground and sending them skidding into the base of a tree. There was a sickening snap and the world glitched, a handful of the resets passing before the kid managed to shield their neck and head with their arms. The killing blow was staved off - saved by repetition and luck. Sans dropped his hold on their soul, bones blooming around his feet and ready to launch forward. The human staggered up once again, spitting blood into the snow as they went. The look on their face… made Sans pause. Their mouth was twisted in a weird mix of a snarl and a frown, their eyes bitter. But nothing about them was angry. Whatever they were feeling… it was something he couldn’t place. Something past desperation, past determination. Something lost.

    Guilt and gratification battled themselves out in Sans’ trembling bones. He wanted to… say something. To beg the human to stop. Surely they couldn’t be enjoying this, the pain they were being forced through. Even if they deserved it, they couldn’t _want_ this. So why keep doing this? Why keep throwing themselves forward again and again? For a brief second Sans was grateful he was a one hit point wonder. You couldn’t suffer through pain like this if you were gone after the first hit. It was a pitiful, terrible thing to be grateful for, but he was grateful nonetheless.

    And here they came again, springing forward on light footsteps, taking advantage of the seconds Sans was distracted. But really, if he died, would it matter? Of course it wouldn’t. Sans grinned. The kid was right after all. Nothing really mattered.

    Sans sidestepped the blow, dancing around the human’s thrusts and jabs, always inches away from that glimmering knife. His soul hitched whenever it passed too close, his body feeling phantoms of touch when he missed just a little too nearly. He sprung up attacks, breath gasping as he struggled to keep up with the human’s frenzied movements and hitches in time. Every reset brought the knife closer. Every miss sent another wall of bones stabbing into the child’s flesh.

    The human overextended themselves, arm and body stretched and offbalance as they missed again. Sans threw a swift kick to their ribs, sending them sprawling into the snow. The child growled through clenched teeth, stumbling up again and staring straight into the maw of a readied gasterblaster. Sans braced his feet, feeling the exhausting pull as the blaster charged, eating his magic away.

    “Think you could… stay… dead this time… kid?” he huffed, his grin tired and almost manic, “This is… getting old… y’know?”

    A heartbeat passed, the blaster reached it’s limit, the human glared.

    “SANS STOP!”

    Shock made his hold slip, exhaustion took care of the rest. The blaster disappeared with shriek, the unspent magic spattering across the snow and sizzling angrily. The human let out an angry, snarl-like noise.

    “No!” they screamed, “You’re not messing this up!”

    “SANS!”

    Sans took a handful of steps backwards, glancing over his shoulder once to see his brother’s rapidly advancing form, red scarf flashing behind him.

    “Pap, you shouldn’t be here.”

     _This was different. This wasn’t normal._

    The human leaped forward, Sans barely managed to sidestep. Papyrus was screaming, his voice pitched and frantic as he pleaded with the human to stop and jogged ever closer. Sans sidestepped another slash. There was a ping of blue, Papyrus catching the child before they could attack another time. Sans spun to face his brother.

    “Pap! You need to get back away from here!” he shouted, “Trust me on this one, you don’t want to talk to this kid!”

    “BROTHER PLEASE!” Papyrus was beside himself with fear, panic, his voice shaky and desperate, “YOU MUST STOP THIS FIGHT AT ONCE! THE HUMA-”

    He stopped short as he suddenly pitched forward, landing hard in the snow. A look of shock flashed across his face, which quickly devolved into screaming as he yanked hard against… a… vine…? It coiled and spiraled up his leg, scraping harsh thorns flush against his bare bone. Sans could almost _see_ Papyrus’ health draining with each move it made, wincing as it ticked away one hp at a time.    His gloved hands scrabbled madly against the vine, whimpering breaths begging it to stop moving.

    “NO NO NO NO-!!”

    Sans sprung towards his brother, panic biting his chest and taking his breath away. This was wrong _wrong_! This wasn’t supposed to happen! _Why was this happening!?_ He wasn’t too far away. He could help him get him away do som-

     _Shk!_

    Papyrus’ scream yanked at Sans’ consciousness before it could fade into shock. For the life of him he couldn’t comprehend what the words were saying, but the pain he felt told him why they were there. Sans stumbled over into the snow. This was… familiar. He’d ...fallen for this... trick before… hadn’t he? How… stupid. If only... he’d... remembered...

    Sans let out a ragged laugh.

    No, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, would it?

    Papyrus’ hands clawed into the snow, his own plight forgotten in the face of his brother’s. He scrabbled desperately for anyway to reach Sans, to hold him for a few more seconds before he shattered into nothing. He was screaming still, tears streaking down his face. He hardly realized the vine released him, but when it did he staggered towards his brother as quick as he could manage. Beneath the feeling of pins and needles as his body shuddered apart, Sans could feel Papyrus clutch him, hug him close, body shaking in sobs.

    “WHY, WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!”

     _Because they’re evil. Because they think it’s fun. Who the hell cares anyway._

    “I-IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE LIKE THIS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS. WH-WHY? WHY?! I DON’T UNDERSTAND.”

     _There’s nothing to understand. Humans just_ are _. They don’t care about why._

    “CHARA PLEASE…!”

     _Chara…? That’s new._

     _Wait..._

    ... _Chara...?_


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Flowey is a fricka-frackin' jerkwad who knows waaaay too much about what's going on.

  It was an interesting sensation - waking up after dying. Well… not interesting really. Sans supposed he’d done it dozens of times by now. But now that he was aware that was what had happened, it gave his aches and pains a whole new meaning. A meaning he suddenly remembered he needed to write down immediately. With a groan Sans dragged himself out of bed, stumbling on unsteady legs for a few seconds, his chest aching. It was all he could do to shuffle over to his jacket. To his relief, the journal was still in his pocket. Whatever magic or luck allowed that to happen he didn’t know, but he was grateful for it anyway.

    It took him a few minutes to find a pen in his mess of a room, but after he did he slumped to the floor and began writing away. Everything his foggy mind could remember he hurriedly etched across the paper: waking up sore, talking to Grillby, reading the journal for the first time, Flowey… His pen hesitated and he whistled low through his clenched teeth. He slowly wrote the word ‘Chara’ and let the pen slip into his lap.

    “Chara,” he breathed, rolling the word around in his mouth. A bitter taste rose into the back of his throat. Chara. That was the name of the fallen human. The source of so much pain and suffering and hopelessness and death. Chara. It fit, but then it didn’t. It was too short to house every heinous circumstance surrounding it, but at the same time just the right size to fit the person it described. The name made Sans’ soul writhe behind his ribcage, his teeth clench a little tighter, a heat start to bloom in his left eye. Chara. Significant yet simple. Pointless in it’s own murderous way. Sans didn’t realize a single word could make him feel so much rage - but it did.

    And yet his brother had said it so effortlessly, as if the word weren’t as toxic as the anomaly it represented.

    That was another thing he couldn’t understand. How did Papyrus know that little shit’s name, and Sans through every single reset had never even caught a hint of it? He flinched outwardly at the implications. Papyrus… Papyrus _knew_. He had to. There was no other way. But… how much did he…? Sans groaned and dropped his face into his hands, anxiety and dread twisting around inside him. Papyrus _couldn’t_ know. What if he knew about everything before the new set? Had he been secretly judging him all this time? About what he did to…? But that was impossible. In the other resets, Papyrus had died before Sans’ fight ever happened. There’s no way he would know. But… Papyrus _would_ remember the new sets. How Sans was never strong enough to keep the human back. Papyrus would remember him dying… over and over and over again. And he would remember in the old resets that Sans had never saved him. Never managed to stop the kid before… maybe… maybe Papyrus was giving up on saving him too.

    Suddenly Sans felt uncontrollably ill, his nonexistent stomach writhing in emotions he couldn’t comprehend. Was this dread? Fear?  Nerves? Hopelessness? He couldn’t place it. But whatever it was, it made his soul feel tight, like it would burst through his ribs. He found himself swallowing hard to keep down a sickness he shouldn’t be able to have. His eyes hurt, his throat constricted. His whole body shook. He wheezed out a suffocating breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding.

    “C-calm d-down,” he muttered to himself, hugging his arms around his chest, “C-c-calm down. You don’t know anything yet. You d-don’t know if… he…”

    His soul gave a twinge, as if tiny strings had yanked it back in his chest. It hurt.

    “Y-you d-don’t know if he knows. Calm down. It’s… okay… b-breathe. Right? Breathe…”

    With shaking hands he picked up the journal and shoved it back in his pocket, and then slipped the hoodie around his shoulders. He couldn’t stop a wince as stiff bones popped and his chest gave a brand of searing pain at the movement. It sent a shudder through his bones and a hiss across his teeth - which in turn made him hurt even more. It was all Sans could to to stand and wait it out, a hand clutching the front of his shirt for dear life as he waited for the pain to slowly abate. After a few more painstaking minutes, it faded away, a dull throb like an afterthought reminding him it was still there. This… this was going to make things rough. Especially if he had to fight that kid again.

    “Heh…” Sans winced as the laugh caught at the sore spot in his chest, “Not like it matters anyway.”

    Steeling himself for any more pain that might come, Sans stepped out of his room. Once he started moving more, he found the pain in his chest abated naturally. His first few footsteps were hell, but the next handful were pinpricks in comparison. That was comforting at least.

    Just like the previous reset, Papyrus was already gone from the house before Sans could manage to wobble his way downstairs. The emptiness in the place was astounding. Was his brother… avoiding him? That same, indescribable feeling welled up in Sans’ body, turning his stomach nauseous and the inside of his mouth bitter. It was all he could do to keep himself from shaking. No, Papyrus would never do that. He had a hard enough time attacking a human kid, let alone holding a grudge against his own brother… right? Sans shook his head. He had to know. For his own sanity if for nothing else. Any thought he could have had of breakfast or rest left his mind in the second it took him to walk through a shortcut.

    He dropped smoothly into the snow outside of Snowdin, panting from the strain of holding a portal open for even a handful of seconds. Okay… maybe food should’ve been a higher priority than he’d set it at. But rational thought just wasn’t doing it for him right now. He _had_ to _know_. Sans picked his way slowly through the snow, walking down the path that led out of town until it turned into the fields of puzzles before his station. It was eerie, quiet. There wasn’t even a hint of the teenagers that normally loafed about out here, and all cheerfulness his brother could have rubbed off on the place seemed to have been buried with the last snowfall. Occasionally Sans would spot peculiarities in the snow, spots that looked like they were trying a little too hard to look natural. He frowned and gave them a wide girth, some vague memory tugging at the back of his mind and telling him they were bad news. After passing the fourth one in his way it hit him.

     _Traps._

    Papyrus had… swapped out his puzzles for traps. Sans gulped down another wave a nausea. Papyrus _had_ to know. He knew and it was changing him. Just like it’d changed Sans when he was aware in the first set. When he’d given up. Sans realized he was breathing too fast and, not knowing what else to do with himself he sat down in the snow and waited for his panic to ease. His eyes darted from one trap to another, his cracked ribs heaving in breaths just seconds short of hyperventilating. Suddenly he felt painfully vulnerable and extremely fragile, surrounded by things that would kill him at the slightest movement on his part. Stranded between hopelessness and dust. A whine escaped his chest and he clasped his hands to the sides of his skull, forcing his gaze towards the snow between his knees in an effort to calm himself down.

    This wasn’t his Papyrus anymore. This wasn’t his happy-go-lucky, laughing and smiling, we’ll see the surface one day and all be okay Papyrus. This wasn’t the Papyrus that would love him in spite of everything, hold his hand and calm him down when he was freaking out, give him a reason to get up in the morning and work through another pointless and worthless day. That Papyrus might as well have died with the first set of resets. Sans had… failed. That was the point of this set… wasn’t it…? The reason he’d made himself forget was because he couldn’t change anything. Couldn’t protect anyone. Couldn’t keep his brother safe. The crippling guilt had nearly driven him insane so he’d made himself forget. And just when he’d managed to rewrite the story, force the world into a different path… he’d made everything _worse_. He’d ruined his brother. He’d started killing himself. One reset at a time. One reset at a time he’d ruined _everything_.

    “Oooohhhh, look at _you_ ,” a voice hissed behind him and Sans flinched, curling just a little bit tighter in on himself. There was a cackle of laughter and Flowey moved, popping up in the snow just inside of Sans’ peripheral vision.

    “That expression,” he chuckled, head tilted to the side and stem twisting so he could look up at Sans’ face even as he hid it in his own hands, “That’s the expression of someone who’s just realized what’s going on… isn’t it?”

    There was an irony in his words, something that echoed back through Sans’ mind like ripples bouncing off the edge of a pond. He didn’t have the energy to figure out their significance.

    “Why…” Sans asked dumbly, shuddering at the hopelessness in his own voice, “Why does he know?”

    Flowey laughed, a high pitched whine of a sound that made the air around it shudder, “Who, Papyrus? Oh don’t be stupid, Sans. He’s a smart enough guy after you get past that whole ‘everyone’s a good person’ schtick! All he needed was a little time to sort stuff out. Honestly I’m kind of proud of him. Just look at all these wonderful little presents he’s made!”

    The flowery paused before giving Sans a maniacal grin, his entire face contorting into a dark version of it’s previous facade, “Oh, I know what’ll liven things up! Why don’t we set one off? Wanna see if he’s finally worked up the nerve to put some spikes in the bottom?”

    “No!” Sans shouted, his voice cracking, “This _isn’t_ Papyrus! He would never do something like this!”

    “Ahaha! Oh Sans,” Flowey chuckled, bobbing rhythmically on his stem, “Denial doesn’t look good on you. He’s been doing this for a while. The last three or four resets at least! You wouldn’t know that though, since you’re too lazy to even walk to your own post. You just skipped right past this happy little place!”

    “Where is he now?” Sans muttered defeatedly, casting a tired gaze across the uneasy field, “I haven’t… seen him all morning.”

    “Hmmm… now that I couldn’t tell you,” Flowey hummed, his bobbing slowing a bit as he thought, “I normally don’t see him until… well… until he fights Chara. His fights are always so… _interesting_ , you know? He talks a lot more than you do. Asks a lot of questions. Figures things out. And you know, Chara even started talking back. I’m kind of jealous. But what can you expect from the greatest friend, really?”

    Sans blinked down at Flowey, dumbstruck, “He’s… h-he’s actually _fighting_ the human?”

    Flowey gave his equivalent of a shrug, lifting a pair of leaves uselessly, “If you want to call it that. It’s more just… I dunno… throwing things at Chara until eventually he loses. He doesn’t put his heart into it really… not like you did.”

    That grin worked its way back across the flower’s face, “I miss watching your fights in the Judgement Hall Sans. They were always so _intense_. You know I kept count for a while there of all the resets you made Chara do? I lost count after four or five hundred, and that was _dozens_ of resets ago. Think you’ve broken a thousand yet?”

    Sans gagged, mortified.

     _A thousand? He’d killed the same child a thousand times?_

    “Awww… I didn’t mean to upset you Sans!” Flowey’s voice purred low, feigning comfort, “Don’t look so upset! I mean, you blew Undyne out of the water! Ehehe, you see what I did there? That was a pun! But anyway, I stopped counting for her at around two or three hundred. She doesn’t come _close_ to what you can do. She’s not really all that great of a hero, is she?”

    Sans was hyperventilating again, hands gripping the sides of his skull as if it could keep his thoughts from reeling. A low, pathetic whine snaked past his teeth. Flowey frowned.

    “Oh pull yourself together, trash bag,” all pretense of comfort dropped as annoyance took over his voice, “It’s not the end of the world… ehehe… well… not like that anyway.”

    He paused, watching Sans for a few moments as the shivering, gasping mess managed to calm down inch by inch.

    “W-why,” Sans babbled through gritted teeth, “Why does the kid even reset? Why can’t they just… why…”

    “Awww, you’re really gonna give up _again_?” Flowey laughed, “Wow, aren’t you predictable. Here your brother is getting stronger and stronger and you just keep getting weaker. But it’ll be no fun to watch everything happen if you just _let_ Chara kill you!”

    Flowey grinned, this time the smile coming easily, almost amused, “Hey, if you promise to show me your best today when you go against Chara, I’ll tell you something really _really_ cool!”

    Sans managed to shoot a weak glare in the flower’s direction, though his heart wasn’t in it. He muttered bitterly, “Anything _you_ think it cool will probably kill me.”

    Flowey twisted his face into a pouty frown, eyes wide in mock hurt, “Oh don’t be that way Sans! After all, I’ve never done anything to you at all! I’ve just been a friendly ear whenever you’ve needed someone to talk to. I mean, I’m the only one who’s ever talked to you about the other resets. At least in a productive way. The old fool in waterfall just rambles, and you know Chara. They don’t talk much unless they get… hmmm… passionate.”

    Sans narrowed his eye sockets at the flower.

    “You wanna know the cool thing right? Come _on_ , I just _know_ you’re gonna love this! But you gotta promise you’ll fight Chara as hard as you normally would!”

    “I’m not good at keeping promises,” Sans managed to reply, his body tense, “Especially loaded ones.”

    Flowey chuckled, “Oh you’re no fun. It’s about the resets. About the end of everything. Doesn’t that peak your interest just a _teensy_ tiny bit?”

    In spite of himself, Sans found himself getting curious. Hadn’t he complained in the last reset about how reluctant Flowey had been to give him answers? Not like knowing anything more would change a single thing. He was stuck in this rut he’d made for himself, this time look into oblivion. Sans scowled.

    “Fine, I’ll bite,” he said defeatedly, “Do your worst you little weed.”

    Flowey laughed, his voice a hiss, “That’s more like it! Ehehe though this is far from my worst. In fact, it’s probably the nicest favor you’ll ever get from me.”

    The flower tilted back on his stem, pointing to some obscure place in the air, “You guys are always so egocentric. You’d don’t look _up_ very often do you?”

    Sans eyed the flower suspiciously for a moment before looking up, and then promptly fell backwards into the snow. He lay there, a mix of shock and awe stretching his eye sockets wide and nearly forcing his soul into a standstill. There was a _crack_ in the ceiling. The ceiling that stretched up for miles so far that the top was shrouded in mist and magic. The ceiling he shouldn’t even know had a top up there somewhere. But there it was, plain as day, spider webbing and shimmering across the sky like some strange, hair thin cloud. It faded into the distance, stopping short at a jagged point roundabout where the doors to the ruins would be. It twisted a jagged path backwards from that point, getting slowly wider and more pronounced as it vanished in the direction of Waterfall.

    Now that he’d noticed it, it seemed painfully obvious that it was there. But… Flowey was right. Not many monsters bothered looking up. There wasn’t much to see - on a normal day anyway. Some part of Sans’ reaction must have been humorous, because Flowey let out a shrieking peal of laughter. He bobbed on his stem gleefully, reveling in the blank, hopeless expression that began to fall into Sans’ features.

    “Haha! Okay, so maybe I lied about you ‘loving this’, but you’ve still gotta admit it’s pretty cool,” Flowey grinned, accomplished, “That’s it Sans. That’s the world ending. Funny how insignificant it looks, huh? You’d think the apocalypse would look a little more doom-y.”

    “The sky is falling,” Sans said flatly.

    “Oh it’s nothing nearly so dramatic,” Flowey said with a condescending _tsk_ , “It’s just a crack. Just like that crack in your ribs. Once it hits the center of the Ruins, that’s when this timeline has run out. You’ve got what…? One reset left? Nah, probably two.”

    Flowey paused dramatically, tapping his lowermost petals with a leaf as if he were musing to himself, “Yeah, I’d give you a solid two resets.”

    “How can you be sure?” Sans said with a pathetic laugh, “It could be dozens for all we know. Or this could be the last one. Who knows how fast that formed.”

    “Oh it didn’t form fast,” Flowey said, waving a dismissive leaf, “It probably went about as slow as your ribs did. One little piece at a time. It’s just a little too late to do anything about it now is all.”

    Sans huffed a harsh breath through his teeth, “You’re pretty damn happy for someone who knows he’s gonna die in the next two resets.”

    The peal of laughter Flowey let out made Sans jump. He sat up quickly, letting out a painful growl when his chest protested to the movement. He glared at the flower, his head spinning. Flowey flashed Sans a sharp-toothed grin.

    “Oh I’m not going to be dying,” he hissed, “Dying is something only you stupid mortals can do. I’m the prince of this world, Sans. There’s nothing here that can bind me.”

    Flowey let out another dark laugh, cutting Sans off as he opened his mouth for another question. A root slid up out of the ground, thorny and grim.

    “Okay, I showed you a cool little thing,” Flowey purred, “Now keep your promise bonehead.”

    He flipped the root forward. If Sans had been standing he could’ve dodged it. But on the ground as he was, _vulnerable_ as he was just sitting there in the snow, he hardly had enough time to summon a bit of magic before the root gave him a hard prod in the sternum. Sans choked as pain bubbled up through his ribs. He clutched a hand to his chest and curled in on himself, biting back a shriek of pain. Flowey chuckled.

    “Keep your promise, Sans,” Flowey hissed, his voice sweet and pitched low so Sans was forced to keep himself quiet just to hear it, “I know you get oh so tempted to just give up. But there’s no fun in that, is there? It’s about as fun as someone playing with that little scrape of yours, right?”

    Sans groaned as the pain slowly worked its way out of his bones, a dull throb settling in the center of his ribs. He staggered to his feet, stepping slowly away from the flower as he did.

    “S’gonna be hard to keep a promise like with you screwing with me,” Sans growled through his clenched teeth. Something grabbed ahold of Sans’ ankle and he stiffed, glaring down as a second root of Flowey’s wrapped around his ankle. The flower simply smiled, bobbing once again on his stem to a tune no one could but him could hear. Another root moved underground, the snow shifting to show it’s path. Sans flinched.

    “Alright alright,”Sans huffed, his hand moving to cover his chest protectively, “I promised! Don’t… don’t you have something better to do besides tormenting me?”

    Flowey laughed, “Oh Sans, I’ll always have time to play with you.”

    The vines of his retreated, tucking themselves away safely underneath the ground. Sans’ whole body sighed with relief.

    “But you’re right,” Flowey continued, “I _do_ have better things to do. Ehehe… enjoy the rest of your day Sans. I’ll be waiting to see how well your fight goes.”

    And with that, the little flower disappeared back into the snow as if he’d never been there. Sans glared at the spot he’d retreated into, waiting for the flower to pop back up again. Waiting for… something to happen. Anything. Some reason he should move away from where he was standing. After a small eternity of pensively staring and jumping at every noise he heard in the world around him, Sans began trudging off towards his post again. He slipped his journal from his pocket as he went, scribbling with shaking hands across the page.

_“Two resets left.”_


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sans realizes something that's thoroughly unpleasant, and the rest of us cringe while we read it.

 Sans wondered faintly at his own stupidity. He’d promised to actually put forth an effort, right now, while he was emotionally disturbed and exhausted and could barely shuffle ten steps without his chest aching. All he had to show for it was a painfully obvious hole in the sky and an ever present feeling of impending doom twisting like cold steel where his stomach should be. And ever since Flowey had given his chest that jab he’d been a bundle of shaky nerves as well, his hands hadn’t stopped shuddering for a second. Now they hid in his hoodie pockets, the left one anxiously stroking the spine of his journal in an effort to ease the exhausted, desperate tension he felt. Not like it really mattered.

    Who was he hiding his anxiety from? The human? Chara was about to raze their world, weren’t they? What did they care if he couldn’t keep his cool. And why did Flowey care if Sans gave a damn about the fight either? He just cared if each reset was interesting. The sadistic creature probably got a kick out of watching Chara die as many times as they did. Not _probably_ , actually. _Definitely_. The thought made Sans shudder.

    “Huh, weird,” Sans lifted his gaze as Chara came into view, “I didn’t know skeletons could feel cold.”

    “The world’s ending, kid,” Sans countered with a grim smile, “There are things more cringeworthy than the weather going on right now.”

    This, for whatever reason, gave Chara pause. They glanced up at the sky, lips pursed in a thoughtful frown, before looking back over at Sans.

    “Finally figure that out, didja?” they said, a grin twisting its way across their face, “Took you long enough. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one? Mister science guy with all the time-space anomaly lingo.”

    Sans gave a helpless shrug.

    Chara opened up their inventory, ready to grab out their knife. Their hand barely had the chance to brush across the hilt before Sans had the kid’s soul in a deathgrip, the magical _ping!_ resonating through the hushed air. Chara was ripped off their feet and sent pinwheeling across the snow, only just managing to kick their feet out in time to dodge a wall of bones Sans had summoned to meet them. Sans pulled them the opposite direction then, and this time they slammed hard into the wave magic that met them. Gasterblasters surrounded them, humming with power and firing four at a time. The world hitched twice before Chara managed to dodge. They stood on steady feet, stance wide and knife ready. Sans’ eyes widened a bit.

    “Huh, you been practicing or something?” Sans asked with an emotionless chuckle, “I’d say that’s cheating but everything about you is cheating right now.”

    Chara laughed, a genuinely happy and bubbly laugh that took Sans mildly by surprise. In any other circumstance, they would’ve sounded like a normal kid.

    “I can’t help it if I’m just naturally gifted,” Chara said coyly and dashed forward, “You’re one to talk though!”

    They swung and missed, Sans too fast for them to catch.

    “Attacking two, three, four times in a row?” Chara continued as they twisted away from a barrage of bones Sans sent flying in their direction, “You don’t leave me any breathing room after I take a hit, when even Undyne will give me a second to recover…!”

    Their voice trailed off into a growl as they missed another swing, Sans sidestepping deftly out of the way once again. With a snap of his fingers, a pair of blasters spread toothy jaws over each of his shoulders and fired. Chara screeched when they hit, causing a handful more stutters in time before they managed to shift out of the line of fire.

    “And to top it all off, you can dodge,” Chara finished breathlessly, taking a step back away from Sans, “I mean… you’re about as close as a match for me as there ever could be.”

    Sans glared at the kid tiredly, sighing out a harsh breath before pinging their soul blue, “That’s the thing, kid, I’m not supposed to be your _match_.”

    He hadn’t realized it, but his smile had twisted around into a dangerous scowl, his eye sockets narrowing and the pinpricks of light inside them extinguishing themselves. A bitter anger clawed around inside his chest, making his soul ache.

    “I’m not a fighter, kid,” he growled, “I have _one_ hit point, _one_ defense, _one_ attack. _You’re_ the one who decided you wanted to push me and everyone else to fight. You wanna talk about Undyne kid? She’s got enough mercy in her to give you a _shield_ to dodge her attacks while she’s holding you down. Papyrus will spare you no matter what the hell you manage to do…”

     _Would spare,_ Sans thought bitterly, _who knows what he’d do now?_

    But the human didn’t correct him and Sans continued.

    “Any other monster will run if they think their life is in danger,” Sans yanked on Chara’s soul, throwing them roughly into a nearby snowbank, “Anyone else you’d kill in one hit right? They don’t even get a chance to change their mind, to run away, to _live_?!”

    Sans’ soul gave a tug as almost unconsciously he summoned a pair of gasterblasters. They bared their teeth at Chara as they stumbled to their feet.

    “I’m the only one who gave you what you deserved,” Sans’ voice quivered, his chest suddenly starting to feel tight, “No mercy. No time to lick your wounds in between attacks. You can’t even kill me unless I’m distracted or too exhausted to stay alive anyway!”

    Sans snapped his fingers as Chara dashed forward, forcing the human into colliding with the beams the blasters fired. The world stuttered once. Twice and Chara was closer. Three times, just a heartbeat away. Fourth and the knife was carving its way past lasers and snow and arching down towards Sans’ ribs. He barely dodged in time, wincing as the blade shredded through the outflung edge of his jacket. Sans dropped into a shortcut, glitching roughly through space and landing heavily in the snow. He clutched a hand to his chest, surprised he’d managed to dodge at all. His jacket felt disturbingly light.

    Sans snapped his gaze upwards, jolting onto the balls of his feet to dodge Chara again - only to find the human was frowning quizzically at something in the snow. Sans’ hands flew down to his pockets, his left one dropping through a hole where the journal should have been safely tucked away.

    Sans panicked.

    In the second it took to realize the journal was gone he was through another shortcut, bounding out inches away from Chara. A spiralling attack of interlocking bones slammed roughly into the child’s side. Precisely hard enough to send them stumbling, but not enough to drain their hp completely. Sans snatched up the journal and vanished through another shortcut, this time stumbling out breathlessly by a nearby tree. He paused in the process of dropping it into his one remaining pocket.

    “...uh…”

    He waved his free hand in the air exasperatedly, scowling, “... oh… now what?!”

    He must have looked ridiculous - he felt ridiculous - because Chara gave a rough laugh as they stumbled to their feet. Sans scowled before waving his hand again. This time he managed to open up his inventory, and earning himself a confused gasp from the human as well. Sans tossed the journal into the first slot he saw and closed it again, anxious to keep the journal out of harm’s way. It was a useless thing to do now, given how late he’d figured things out. But it felt like betrayal letting Chara see what was inside.

    “What… was that…?” Chara asked, flipping their knife in their hand nonchalantly. A curious glint lit up their eyes, childlike and intrigued in its own way. Sans scowled.

    “Was that… a journal…?” they seemed… genuinely confused, “Why do you have a journal? How many resets have you even _had_ that?”

    Sans grinned a cold, cutting smile that ended Chara’s questions in a second, “You _really_ wanna know kid? You ever see me in the Judgement Hall again then maybe I’ll tell ya. Too bad it’s all gonna end before that happens though, right?”

    Chara scowled, eyes narrowing in - was that suspicion? Why? They caught their knife, sinking so quickly away from the childlike innocence of a few minutes ago and slipping into their regular twisted facade.

    “Wow. You really _do_ have everything figured out, don’t you?”

    Sans blinked, his expression unreadable. His stomach gave a nervous twist. Was he… missing something here? Chara suddenly looked weary, blank. They regarded Sans coldly, their mouth frozen somewhere between a frown and a smile. Suddenly they were taking him seriously and Sans felt like flinching under the weight of their smile. A flicker of movement caught Sans’ eye and he shot a glance to the side. Flowey burst through the snow.

    “Hey! Chara!”

    The human jumped.

    “You’ve played around long enough, don’t ya think?” Flowey was grinning, his voice pleasant. But he wasn’t asking a question. Not really. Chara sprung forward, dagger held ready. Sans sidestepped and threw up a hand, his magic snapping to forward to answer the gesture. Chara dodged, picking their way as quickly as possible through a maze of white and blue bones, ducking below a handful of blasters. Sans gave a tired huff and sidestepped again.

    Something gripped his ankle and Sans let out a panicked gasp as he nearly tumbled over. He glanced down once, scowling at the root wrapped around his foot. For a second he was too irritated at the cheat to panic. Too taken by a snapshot of annoyance and bitter anger to care about the knife arching towards him. What a cheap trick. What a shitty way to go.

     _If you’re going to kill me anyway, I at least deserve a fair shot._

    In a last-ditch effort to dodge, Sans dropped himself through a shortcut. He heard the harsh scrape of the knife across his bone, flinched and braced himself for whatever pain would follow.

    Sans stumbled out of his shortcut a dozen steps away from the kid, whole. He blinked, confused. But… he’d heard… he’d felt… hadn’t he?

    Sans looked down at his arms, his chest. His hands reached across to pat across forearms and shoulders. No nicks, no scratches. Nothing. He looked up to see Chara staring at him just as confused. Sans cracked a grin.

    “Really kid?” he said with an emotionless laugh, his voice cracking a bit from shock and strain, “You really want to go through all that sparing nonsense again, or did you just miss?”

     _Shk!_

     _There it was._

    Sans stumbled back a few steps, pain blossoming in a slash across his chest. Guess the kid really was just fooling with him after all. Just a split second of hope before yanking it away again. Well, if he was going for a joke it didn’t work. Kid needed to work on their punchlines. Sans sunk to his knees, arms hugging his broken chest, feeling pins and needles start to take over his shaking form. Some morbid curiosity grabbed him when he noticed the red dripping into the snow. What was it that he’d called it in his journal? Just a bunch of magic mess. It looked like blood. Looked a lot like what that kid left behind every time Sans… every time… he…

    Snow spattered in blood. A judgement hall slick with it. Gold and white and blue all stained with gallons of the sick, damning life stuff that humans depended on almost as much as determination. There to perfectly mirror snow dulled and bright, glowing echo flowers tarnished grey by dozens of monsters worth of dust.

    Sans chuckled, the sound snagging in his chest, the harsh movement sending shivers of jagged pain ricocheting through his body. But he kept laughing, a choking, broken sound that occasionally wrapped itself in a sob. Chara frowned down at him.

    “What… are you laughing at?”

    It hurt to move. It hurt to laugh. The pins and needles were creeping up his spine, snaking their way across his arms. His chest hurt. _Everything hurt_. Sans coughed one last bit of sobbing laughter.

    “Y-you know,” he gasped, looking up at Chara, his face twisted in a cracked and emotional grin, “Papyrus didn’t show up.”

    Chara’s scowl wavered into something less angry.

    “He c-came running to help me last time, right?” Sans laughed painfully, “To s-save me, right? That wasn’t a dream. That was real.”

    Confused, expression unreadable, Chara nodded. Sans let out a loud, tearless sob.

    “You know I haven’t seen him all morning,”

    Why was he talking? Why was he saying anything? Why didn’t he just curl up in the snow and die quietly. Let this kid kick his dust away for all it mattered. Nothing mattered. Two resets from now he’d be dying and he wouldn’t have to wake up ever again. He should be relieved. He should be thankful.  

    “A-and the reset before that,” Sans continued, letting out another one of his weird, collapsing, wheezing laughs, “D-didn’t see him until the end. When he was st-stopping me from… k-killing… _you_. Isn’t that hilarious? You th-think he’s finally figured it out, Chara?”

    If it were possible, Sans grin got wider, “He’s finally figured out I’m n-not worth saving.”

    Everything hurt. His whole body felt like it was covered in crawling, biting ants. The hands that held his ribs were shuddering apart, it was getting harder for him to stay kneeling as he was. He just wanted to collapse, to disappear into the snow. He wanted to die. He wanted to stay dead.

    “He’s finally figured it out.”

    Sans didn’t have the strength to laugh, or to cry. He hardly had enough will left to breathe.

    “I mean… I don’t deserve mercy… right?”

    Sans slumped over, letting the crawling feeling of his body shattering apart rock him into oblivion. Funny. From this angle it looked like the human was crying.

     _How can you deserve mercy when you’ve never spared anyone who asked for it?_

     _He was just like Chara, wasn’t he?_

     _Wasn’t that funny?_


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get really dark and something very interesting is discovered.
> 
> (Major disclaimer for this one! If reading about suicidal thoughts and actions in writing puts you in a bad head space, I recommend reading this chapter with extreme caution.)

 When Sans awoke he refused to move. Breathing was a chore. If it weren’t for the uncomfortable, suffocating feeling he got when he stopped he wouldn’t bother doing it at all. After all, he was a skeleton. What did it matter if he breathed? The world was ending. What did it matter if he didn’t do anything at all? He didn’t want to be awake. He didn’t want to be alive. His chest hurt. He wanted to fall back asleep but he couldn’t, his soul pulsing uncomfortably in his ribcage and keeping him awake. His head swirled with half started sentences and musings, all of them dark. All of them hopeless.

    Why couldn’t he just stay dead?

    So that was it then. Papyrus had finally given up on him. Even now their house was achingly quiet, Papyrus having probably left as soon as the restart took full effect. Off to do Asgore knows what while avoiding Sans like the plague that he was. Coward that he was. Useless waste of space. Idiot. Murderer. _Genocidal_ murderer. If that kid weren’t just one, he’d have killed over a thousand. And he couldn’t even claim it was self-defense. He couldn’t call it revenge. He’d attacked the kid in a timeline when he couldn’t rightly remember them ever doing anything wrong. And even before that he’d refused to spare them when they asked for it.

    He’d decided the world was kill or be killed, and Sans was going to be the last one standing, even if it was impossible for him to do so. He’d looked at the kid and said ‘I deserve to live’, and then done everything that he’d damned the kid for in the first place. Sans’ breath caught in his throat and he grimaced.

    No wonder Papyrus hadn’t tried to save him.

    When had they become so different? They’d always been together. They’d raised each other. They’d been inseparable as soon as they entered into existence. So when had they managed to divert so far from each other? When had Sans decided it was okay for him to kill if he felt desperate enough, and when had Papyrus decided he’d rather die than allow that desperation? When had Sans decided he could judge whether or not someone deserved mercy, and when had Papyrus decided that no matter what, everyone did?

    What kind of a monster was Sans, really?

    Sans let out a ragged breath he’d been holding, fighting back the urge to cry. He didn’t want to be awake. He didn’t want to move or breathe. He wanted desperately for his soul to stop it’s ridiculous pulsing and just let him fade into oblivion. And most of all, strongest of all, he didn’t want to see Chara ever again. It was like looking in a mirror. A mirror cracked and covered in blood. A mirror where he did nothing more than watch his reflection kill himself over and over and over again.

     _Despicable. Worthless. Monster._

    Sans curled on his side, bringing his knees close to his chest and hugging himself as he did. He clamped his eyes shut, his grimace shuddering as he desperately tried to keep away tears.

     _Don’t deserve to even be alive. It’s a wonder it took Papyrus so long to finally give up. You’ve always been like this, haven’t you? Always been weak. Did what was easiest. Convenient._

    Sans gave a heaving sob. He glared at the wall of his room, biting hard on one of his knuckles, fighting the urge to collapse into messy, hysterical crying.

     _It was easier to kill that kid. Easy to pretend you had a good reason for it. A good reason for killing them too many times to count. A whole lot easier than sparing them, right?_

    Sans’ whole body shuddered.

     _Easier to let them kill Papyrus then to convince him to defend himself. Easier to forget than live with the guilt you brought on yourself. Easier to die first than deal with the fact that you let your brother die. Easier to force Papyrus to deal with the grief alone, kicking up the dust just like you did._

    A loud whine snaked its way through Sans’ constricted throat and he screwed his eyes shut again. His hands clawed at the sheets. He wanted to rip, to tear. Take out his anguish on anything. Anything but himself. But really he deserved anything he felt now didn’t he?

     _Selfish. Egotistical waste of space. Selfish even now for wanting to die. You’d be doing them a favor._

    Sans took several shuddering breaths, his body tense but slowly relaxing. The urge to cry started to fade, though the pressure in the back of his eye sockets stayed. A dull ache ready to spill over the minute it got the chance.

     _It doesn’t matter anyway, after all._

    His whole body went limp, as if just the motion alone would let him sink further into his mattress. As if the muffled softness could suffocate his thoughts away. He gazed down with half closed eyes, inspecting the outline of the shadow of his hand against the soft surface beneath it.

     _Papyrus wouldn’t even notice._

    A blue aura of magic enveloped Sans’ hand, and he watched dully as the shadow he’d been staring at disappeared from the brightness of it.

     _No one would care._

    Sans let out a sigh and slowly closed his hand into a fist. His soul gave a shudder, and he let out a soft gasp as his own magic wrapped itself around him. It made him feel nauseous, took a little more effort to breathe than it normally should. His soul was glowing brightly in his chest, shivering and pulsing weirdly from the feeling.

     _You’ll just wake up back here after the next reset anyway._

    Sans flicked his wrist back slightly, letting out a soft cry as his soul was pulled lightly from its safe spot behind his ribcage. He couldn’t say whether the movement felt good or bad - just unnatural. He wasn’t meant to see his own soul, let alone have his own magic react with it. He cupped his hands around it, as if he could hold it here but in the end was too afraid to actually touch it. It quivered in front of him, the soft blue light pulsing, feverish and jittery. And he lay there and watched for what felt like hours.

    Waiting.

    Stalling.

    He was mildly surprised by how complete it was, now perfectly normal it looked. What little part of him that cared to notice, anyway. It was crystalline and white, tinged in the blue of his magic. Sans could see tiny, hair-thin cracks across its surface, proof of the times it had shattered over and over and over again. But they didn’t make it look fragile. If anything, it looked all the more beautiful to him, his magic pooling in each crack and refracting into soft indigos and aquas as it faded across the rest of the surface. But he knew how weak it really was, how easy it would be to just make it disappear. One touch with enough intent and it would burst apart and fizzle away. One instant polished crystal, the next a pile of bitter dust. Finally able to reflect how Sans actually looked on the inside just before he crumbled away with it. Maybe death suited him after all. All he’d ever done was die anyway right?

     _You wouldn’t suffer for long._

    Sans curled his cupped hands closer to his chest, tugging his soul with them, a miserable grimace on his face. He blinked down at the horrible little thing, feeling sick and weak. Was he really doing this? Was this something he really wanted to do? Had it really come to this?

    But then again why shouldn’t he? What was there to hold him back? There were no consequences. He’d just wake up after the next reset feeling just as miserable, maybe even miserable enough to try this again. And then after that he’d never wake up ever again, like his life was just a flicker of a fever dream in some monster’s mind. He didn’t have to fight anymore. Didn’t have to struggle against the inevitable. He wouldn’t have to feel miserable anymore over the choices he’d made or worry about his brother or anything. He’d just be gone. He should be glad it was finally almost over.

    What reason did he have to stay?

    So when he moved his hand away to see his soul more clearly, why was it shaking so badly? Why did it feel like he was about to throw up everything he’d ever eaten even when he hadn’t so much as seen food yet this reset? Why was his breathing getting slowly faster as he summoned a single attack into his free hand, and why was the attack so shivery and malformed that it took three tries just to summon it properly?

    Why was there a little voice in the back of his head screaming as loudly as it was able to that this was a terrible, desperate, pitiful idea that he never should have had in the first place?

    And suddenly Sans felt like crying again, the terrible pressure just behind his eye sockets and the constricting of his throat making every part of his body freeze in tense anxiety. He swallowed and blinked, his teeth clenched in a pathetic frown that was so tense his jaw saw starting to hurt. The attack in his hand wobbled, barely contained, flickering between white and blue in his uncertainty.

    Sans closed his eyes and flicked his wrist.

    As soon as the two collided his whole body shuddered and he gasped, his magic fizzling out in an instant. His soul slammed back into its normal spot in his chest and the attack burst into a shower of magical sparks. He hugged himself tightly, sobbing and shaking.  He didn’t know how long he was like that; reeling over what he’d tried to do. What he should have done. And then reeling again at the fact that it hadn’t worked. His soul, though filled with violent shuddering that almost seemed to threaten to break itself apart, stayed intact in his chest. The pins and needles of his body turning to dust didn’t as much as ghost their way across his bones. Every part of his body ached, and there was no reprieve for it.

    Sans didn’t know if he should feel ecstatic or pathetic.

    It took a small eternity of him sniveling and wiping away tears to finally calm down enough to glance back again at his soul. He let out a choked laugh when he did. The once hair thin cracks were now wider, spider webbing their way over his soul in ominously deep lines. He was alive, but just barely. But how? How in the world could he possibly survive even _still_. He had one defense and one attack. They cancelled themselves perfectly. It was just enough to snap away his hp. Or at least, it should be.

    Come to think of it… the kid had had a problem killing him last reset… hadn’t they...?

    He remembered, cringing slightly at his own pathetic emotional breakdown in front of Chara and that damn flower. He remembered Flowey holding him still, his desperate run through a shortcut. Feeling the knife scrape across his body but never finding so much as a scratch. So the kid hadn’t missed then… had they?

    How? What was different? Was this just another manifestation of the world ending? His stats were glitching, or Chara wasn’t as strong as they had been or…

    Sans sat up and, with a grim smile settling on his face, used his magic to pull open his inventory. There was nothing there. He stared at the magical storage, trying to sort out something he’d never done before. Something no monsters did anymore. Something no monsters had had to know since the war. He waved a hand, pulling the magical box apart and reordering it. He found the journal. He’d _equipped_ the journal. Sans blinked at his discovery, marveling at what he’d done. Still a one hit point wonder. No longer dead after one hit. He blinked once, twice. The wheels in the back of his mind began turning, forming a single desperate idea.

    But he needed to know for sure.

    Maybe. Just maybe.

    Maybe this stupid plan was a reason to stay alive.

    Sans pushed himself off the bed and slipped his jacket around his shoulders. He took a deep breath, picking up the shattered pieces of his composure. Forcing his mind to stay silent. No positive or negative thoughts. Only the possibility. But he _had to be sure_. He needed someone to check his stats. Someone who wouldn’t accidentally kill him before he figured out what he had.

    He only had one reset to get it right.  
      
    Sans stepped through a shortcut.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a certain fire monster gives out some well-needed comfort, and Sans grasps ahold of what he needs to do next. Also, this whole "world breaking thing" is getting pretty annoying.

Something was wrong with his shortcuts, and not just the ‘whoops I landed in the wrong spot’ kind of wrong. Their normal quiet dark and instantaneous transition from place to place was gone, replaced with buzzing static. And just beneath the static was another sound, something like wind rushing through what should have been an airless void. And then there was the pulling sensation Sans felt as he was whipped through it. His gentle step through the portal had turned into a breathtaking plummet through time and space that lasted a handful of seconds that were way too long.

    It was terrifying.

    Sans tumbled out of the shortcut, falling face first onto a wet gravel path. The soft glow and patter of rain told him he was in Waterfall. That was definitely _not_ where he’d intended to end up. Sans heaved himself to his feet, groaning at the soreness he felt from landing on his chest. Holy Asgore, his ribs _hurt_. Sans took a second to compose himself before hesitantly stepping back through another shortcut.

    It was like stepping into a fast running river. It felt like his legs were being snapped out from underneath him and he was suddenly being dragged by the current of whatever the shortcuts were made of. Sans closed his eyes and braced himself. This time the shortcut sent him crashing into the side of a building, and Sans slumped against the wall he’d landed on, stunned. His feet were in ankle deep snow - that was comforting at least.

    “Okay,” he huffed, “No more shortcuts.”

     _Man, the end of the world just made everything so inconvenient._

    Or maybe that was him just screwing things up again. Sans grimaced and tried his best to silence the thought.

    Sans made his way into the street, getting his bearings. He’d landed against the rock family’s house. Now the two children were yelling excitedly about how he’d appeared out of nowhere. Sans ignored them and jogged his way over to Grillby’s, desperate to do something with the willpower he’d found before it inevitably melted away. He burst through the bar door with much more enthusiasm than he’d intended, sending it slamming open. Everyone inside turned and stared at him, confused and a bit alarmed. Sans ignored them too, heading straight for the bar counter.

    “Grillby I need your help!” he said quickly, slamming his hands on the counter in nervous urgency, “I swear it’s really important!”

    Grillby blinked at his friend, surprised, his fire crackling a hot white.

    “I… yes of course, what is it?” he asked, setting down the glass he’d been polishing. Sans opened his mouth to speak and then, realizing all eyes were on him, closed it again. He gave Grillby a tight smile.

    “Actually, I… need to talk to you somewhere more... private,” he muttered self consciously, dropping his voice lower than it had been before. Not that it mattered. Nobody would remember come the next reset anyway, would they?

    Grillby paused, confused and more than a little worried. After a second of scrutiny, he finally nodded and walked back towards the kitchen. He held the door open, waiting for Sans to pass through before entering himself. Sans still didn’t really understand how the ‘fire escape’ door worked. Maybe he should ask sometime. He glanced around the expansive kitchen. In all his resets, he didn’t remember ever seeing anything like it. There wasn’t even the slightest feeling of deja-vu. Guess even the most doomed timelines could offer something new if you looked hard enough for it. Grillby cleared his throat, grabbing Sans’ attention.

    “So, what is it that has you so…” Grillby trailed off, not knowing what word to use. Sans held up his hands helplessly.

    “Promise not to freak out on me, G?”

    “I make no such promise,” the elemental answered with a hint of a laugh in his voice.

    Sans sighed, “Alright… well… now seriously G don’t freak out.”

    Grillby crossed his arms.

    “I need you to enter a fight with me and check my stats,” Sans finally managed, “I mean we’re not actually going to fight but-”

    “Absolutely _not_ ,” came the harsh reply, and Sans grimaced.

    “Grillby, seriously, this is important!”

    “That’s so… no… there’s no way,” Grillby’s voice cracked a bit, flustered and confused. He waved his arms emphatically as he talked, and a bright blue colored the flames beneath his eyes. He was blushing.

    “I can’t look at your _soul_ ,” he continued avidly, “That’s… that’s an invasion of privacy! And besides I already _know_ your stats! You’ve _told_ them to me before!”

    Sans had to withhold a chuckle, “Don’t have a _meltdown_ there Grillby.”

    He dodged a poorly aimed smack in his direction.

    “This isn’t funny Sans!” Grillby said indignantly, “I’m not comfortable with this at all! Besides, we’re in my kitchen! And I’m a _fire elemental_. What if I accidentally…?! No! No no no. Not in a million years, _no_. It’s just so… can’t you just…?”

    Grillby sighed out a breath of smoke, running out of steam, for lack of a better phrase for it. He crossed his arms defeatedly.

    “Why do you need to know your stats?” he asked with another sigh.

    Sans gave a halfhearted laugh, “I dunno G, you didn’t do too well on the first half of the ‘no freak out part’, and that wasn’t even the uh… freak out part.”

    Grillby made a dramatic movement with his hands, something between an arm flail and a shrug. Sans had to struggle to hold back another laugh.

    “You have to understand, Sans. When I was raised the only people who saw your stats were people trying to kill you,” Grillby said nervously, “Or someone you’d trust your soul to. I’m not… I mean we’re good friends but we’re not…”

    Grillby’s flame began glowing a bright blue again, blushing.

    Sans chuckled, “Grillby you’re really reading too much into this.”

    He sighed, “Look, I wouldn’t go out of my way to make you feel awkward, okay? If anyone I should be asking Papyrus. But I can’t find him, and my shortcuts aren’t working so I can’t even rightly search anyway.”

    Sans paused. _Did_ Grillby know about his shortcuts? That sounded like something he’d have told the bartender at some point. Well, Grillby didn’t _look_ confused at least.

    “Something’s happened to my stats,” Sans continued gently, “And I need to know what it is before…”

    Sans frowned.

    “... before the human comes back?” Grillby said solemnly, rubbing the side of his face tiredly with one of his hands, “Yes… I forgot about that.”

    “You know about the resets?” Sans was surprised, but at the same time felt like he shouldn’t be. After all, Gerson know about the resets, according to the journal anyway. And Grillby had very much been a part of the war effort alongside the old monster. Of course he would know about the resets.

    “Never mind,” Sans sighed, “Stupid question. Yes of course you know.”

    Grillby gave a weary laugh, “I wish I didn’t.”

    They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence for a few second before Sans finally cleared his throat.

    “Anyway, I need to know my stats,” Sans insisted, “ _Please_ G. Literally a life and death situation. Well… I’ll probably die anyway but… that’s not the point right now.”

    Grilly sighed, his flame burning lower, “... alright.”

    He shifted on his feet apprehensively, stalling for a few seconds while he figured out what he wanted to do. Finally with the flick of a fiery wrist, he initiated the fight, sending both their souls fluttering into bright light. Sans’ glowed fiercely behind his ribcage, shuddering slightly from the trauma from a short time ago. Sans winced.

    “Grillby before you check-”

    The fire elemental let out a strangled gasp.

    “... yeah…” Sans looked down guiltily at his slippered feet, avoiding so much as glancing in Grillby’s direction. His friend quickly backed out of the fight, sparing Sans in an instant.

    “You have…! You…?! Why…?!” Grillby asked stammered uselessly before finally managing a loud and terrified, “ _Why do you have only half of a hit point??”_

    Sans cringed but didn’t respond.

    “Sans? Sans why? What happened? Why did…? Why aren’t you…?”

    Sans shoved his hands in his pockets, not really knowing what to say. Grillby pressed a gentle hand on Sans’ shoulder, forcing him to look up and meet his gaze. Sans hadn’t even realized he’d moved. Grillby searched his face for a minute, as if he could read there what had happened. And apparently he could. The flame elemental leaned in and wrapped him up in a shuddering hug, trying to hold back his own emotions. His flame flickered wildly, troubled but contained.

    “C’mon Grillby,” Sans said with an emotionless laugh, “It’s… not that big of a deal. S’not like it matters anyway right?”

    He was answered by the hug getting tighter, and slightly warmer. It was a comforting warmth, one that seeped into Sans’ bones and made him feel tired. Contentedly tired. Sans faintly realized it’d been awhile since anyone had hugged him at all. Or talked to him as a friend. Or given him a reason to laugh. How many resets had it been since any of those things had happened? It felt like years.

    “Heh… didn’t I tell you not to freak out?”

    Grillby didn’t move.

    “I… really care about you, you know that?” Grillby said quietly, his voice scarcely above a whisper. Sans blinked in surprise.

    “You’re the best friend I’ve had in a long time, Sans,” the elemental continued, his voice wavering slightly, hoarse, “I don’t… care… if it doesn’t matter. I don’t care if you’d be back by the next reset. Please… don’t give up hope yet.”

    Grillby finally broke away from the embrace, turning away nervously to wipe away at whatever the elemental could manage for tears.

    “Jeez, G, I’m… I’m sorry,” Sans murmured, scuffing one of his slippers against the ground, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

    Grillby waved a his free hand in the air dismissively, though he didn’t seem quite composed enough to speak yet. After a couple more minutes of distressed flickering and eye wiping, he finally managed to regain his composure. He cleaned his glasses fiercely and readjusted them on his face before finally turning to face Sans again.

    “You’re right,” he said gruffly, his voice still unsteady, “About the uh… stats. You’ve got two attack and six defense. Your attack couldn’t… you… I…”

    He trailed off, too afraid of getting emotional again to keep talking for long, “S-sorry.”

    Grillby dropped his gaze to the floor. Sans flashed him a tired smile.

    “Oh come on, Grillby, it’s… it’s not that bad. I mean… I… didn’t keep going right? I’m still here. Just… a little… _cracked_ up is all.”

    Was that supposed to be a pun? He knew better ones than that. Grillby gave a sharp laugh, but Sans got the feeling it had nothing to do with the poor attempt at a joke.

    “And here I was in a tizzy over checking your stats,” Grillby said bitterly, shaking his head, “Oh of all the fool things! I’m so sorry Sans.”

    “Heh, chill, G,” Sans chuckled, “You’re okay.”

    “Sans, I am living fire. I have no chill,” Grillby grinned in reply. They both laughed, and then laughed some more at the sound of each others’ laughter. And more to relieve the nerves, the stress, the fear. Everything they’d both dealt with, everything they were going to deal with. It was cathartic, light. The first spec of light Sans had seen for a long time.

    Make that two reasons for living.

    One for the stupid thought, turning into a plan, that would probably fail.

    One for Grillby, who had somehow managed to make him laugh.

    “You light up my life, G,” Sans finally managed as the two of them began to calm down, “I… don’t know how I’d’ve made it this far without you. Honestly.”

    “The same goes to you, Sans,” Grillby said gently.

    The two smiled at each other before Sans finally motioned towards the door.

    “I’d love to stay here all day G… you have no idea. But… I have a date with destiny I think,” Sans gave one last, sad laugh, “And they get pretty tiffy when I’m late.”

    Grillby sighed, “I suppose I should be getting the Snowdin folk somewhere safe as well.”

    Sans paused a moment. Should he… tell Grillby about the end? He shook his head. No… no he wouldn’t. Grillby deserved a little bit of hope at least. If for no other reason than for giving him hope to manage one more reset. But there was one thing.

    “Uh… Grillby?”

    “Yes Sans?”

    “Do you… ever see Papyrus? After…” Sans rubbed the back of his neck worriedly.

    “... I have yes,” Grillby answered tentatively, “Sometimes he comes to talk to me. Sometimes he prefers to be alone.”

    “Could you do me a favor, G?” Sans gulped down the tenseness closing itself around his nonexistent throat. The fire elemental nodded.

    “Tell him… tell him I love him, okay?” Sans said roughly, “I… haven’t gotten to tell him in a while. And I don’t want him to forget.”

    Grillby gave a stern nod, “Of course Sans.”

    “Thanks G.”

    They both exited the kitchen, Sans quickly exiting the building before anyone could ask why he’d entered in such a fuss. He had to stomp down the urge to use a shortcut. It wouldn’t work, and with his luck it might smash him into something that would take away the hp he had left. Well… maybe his luck wasn’t _quite_ that bad. But he couldn’t afford to take any chances right now. The back of his mind was stirring, chewing around that silly idea of his.

    What if… Chara _didn’t_ kill him? What if, just one time, Sans survived? The kid had some kind of obligation to kill every last monster in the underground before finally moving on to do whatever they did to make that crack in the sky. So if Sans was still alive… could they still do that? Or better yet, what about both him and Papyrus? What if, just once, he managed to save his brother? He had one chance to get it right. For now, with half a hit point, he wasn’t much short of falling down. The world would reset one more time. He’d have one chance to make it work.

    Chara would probably pursue them, but that wasn’t what Sans was worried about. He just wanted to see his brother again. To explain himself. Beg for forgiveness even. Ask him why he’d given up. Tell him he wasn’t alone. Tell him anything.

    Funny how much you ached to see someone as soon as they weren’t there.

    Sans shuffled up to his post just as Chara turned the corner in the road. Sans flashed them a bitter smile, lifting a hand to wave. It was a bad choice in movement, a thoughtless one. Chara dashed forward as soon as Sans moved, knife in hand. Sans gave a rough sigh and sidestepped out of the way.

    “Geez kid, I’m actually in a decent mood for once,” Sans chuckled, “We were so chatty last time. What’s the rush?”

    Chara slashed forward again, their mouth set in a hard line, expression unreadable. Sans’ smile dropped and he sidestepped. Suddenly he felt… tired. Exhausted even. He raised a hand, pinging Chara’s soul blue. And then stumbled back and dropped them as a pain bloomed in his chest. It hurt, it _hurt_. Worse than any other time he could remember. His breath caught and wouldn’t move, he couldn’t even gasp in enough air to scream. Some sluggish, shocked piece of his brain realized the kid was weaponless. They’d thrown the knife. He’d caught it with his ribs. That was cheap.

    Not that it mattered.

    Sans had to grin. Even as he started turning to dust. Even as the kid reclaimed their knife. Something in their expression faltered when he yelped in pain at the movement. Even more of it cracked when they saw he was smiling.

    Maybe his luck wasn’t that bad after all.

    The kid had finished things too quick to notice any difference.

    Maybe, just once, he could do things right.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which ketchup is extremely important.

The minute Sans was awake he was out of bed. It took a lot of effort - effort he normally wouldn’t put in. But this was important. This was his last chance. And for once he actually _had_ a chance. He couldn’t get this wrong. Of all the things for him to do, screwing up wasn’t an option for it this time. No matter how much his chest hurt or how tired he felt, he couldn’t screw this up. Praise Asgore the kid hadn’t fought him the reset before. For once, Sans didn’t wake up completely drained of magic or willpower.

    But even in spite of that, the first thing he did when he woke is made sure he ate something. He dove into his brother’s spaghetti, heedless of the taste or how poor of a breakfast choice it was. It gave him a weird sense of both comfort and guilt. Here his brother was helping him and he didn’t even know it. Hopefully it was something Papyrus would still want to do, if he were here. Sans did his best to just focus on the food instead of the person behind it. He couldn’t let himself give up on this. Couldn’t let himself decide he didn’t deserve a chance to see Papyrus again.

    Sans sighed and tried to focus instead on his steadily growing plan. It was a simple one - which he thought was a good thing. After all, the simplest things were the hardest to mess up and the easiest to improvise if something _did_ go wrong. All he wanted to do was get past Chara, but he knew that was impossible in a head on fight. The kid would just reset until they won. So the alternative? Chara had to win… without Sans actually dying. It was going to be interesting to pull off, _if_ he could pull it off. But Sans was a terribly good performer - if he could make puns and anxiety seem natural, he could pull off anything. And it was much easier to pull off dying if you’d done it before.

    Sans paused in his eating, thinking back on what he could remember of the judgement hall and the things he’d said there. He couldn’t remember everything, but certain prominent lines stuck out to him and he stowed them away for use. He also knew it always took him so long to die, no matter the reset. He was lucky he did, in hindsight. Without that, he’d never get this plan to work.

    What a twisted thing to be thankful for.

    So the kid would hit him and he’d stumble off, pretend he was dying. Say something sentimental maybe. He’d have to find some way to fake his bleeding, which was his biggest problem now. He was pretty sure he couldn’t conjure up that mess of liquid magic on command. Sans smiled bitterly to himself. He should go visit Grillby’s.

    Sans forgoed using his shortcuts, too scared of putting everything he’d done up until this point in jeopardy. Walking was a pain, sure, but a lot less painful than flying off a cliff in Hotland, or glitching himself into the wall of a building. As he walked he realized it was… dark. Not night dark, not quite that dim. But it was like an early twilight had fallen over everything, coating the world in hushed blue and grey tones. It was eerie. And the rest of the world had responded by staying inside. Few of the Snowdin townsfolk were out, and those that were shuffled from place to place quickly, unsure of the pressure in the atmosphere and the smothering darkness wrapping around them. If doom had a presence, this would be it.

    Sans cast an uncertain look at the ceiling. The crack was wider, more dangerous looking, and it disappeared somewhere behind the doors to the ruins, somewhere he couldn’t see anymore. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off just as quickly.

    The inside of Grillby’s reflected the world outside - dim and mostly empty. A few patrons sat nervously in corner booths, sipping drinks and talking in hushed tones to each other. Sans walked past them to hop onto one of the barstools in front of Grillby. The fire elemental gave him a weary glance.

    “It’s dark outside,” he said quietly, and Sans shrugged.

    “It’s new,” the fire elemental continued, sighing, “I hate new.”

    “Really?” Sans asked, a quizzical smile on his face, “Why?”

    “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Grillby answered simply, “After awhile… you get pleasantly used to knowing what’s going to happen every single time. And when something changes the unknown is suddenly terrifying.”

    He looked down at the glass he was polishing in his hands, “... when the resets changed and you went to meet the human for the first time, I had a breakdown.”

    “Seriously?”

    Grillby chuckled, “Big time. Almost put my own flame out. And nobody could help me because they were hiding in the kitchen, waiting for the human to get there. It was quite a mess. For some reason, I can’t stop myself from thinking this change will be the one that kills me. It’s probably just leftover feelings from the war. That’s how the resets were back then, after all. I should learn how to contain the feelings better.”

    “You gonna be okay today, G?” Sans asked quietly.

    “Depends on how much is changing,” Grillby cast a knowing look on Sans, and the skeleton gave a small grin, “What have you got up your sleeve, Sans?”

    “Nothing yet,” Sans laughed, “I was hoping you could help me with that.”

    Grillby set the glass down on the bar and crossed his arms, “You have my full attention.”

    “... how much ketchup you got stored back there, G?”

* * *

 

    Not more than an hour later Sans stood outside the doors to the ruins, staring up at the crack in the sky as he waited for the inevitable moment that Chara emerged. Grillby had been much more help than Sans could have ever asked for - though Sans supposed that’s how the elemental always had been. Someday, if he managed to fix whatever was happening to them now, he’d have to find a way to pay him back. Grillby had suggested Sans meet Chara straight out of the ruins, before the kid had any time to accumulate any more LV than they already had. It would give Sans that much more of a chance of surviving their attack when it hit. It was a smart move, Sans was a bit ashamed he hadn’t thought of it himself. And then there was the information Sans had _really_ needed to know - Grillby knew where Papyrus went, where he had his face of with the human. It was something Sans had guessed but had really hoped against.

    Papyrus would be in the judgement hall, waiting for Chara to make their way there. It was a long walk through a quiet Underground to get there, especially with Sans’ shortcuts out of commission for now. But it would be worth it in the end if he could stop the fight. And with Papyrus’ help, he might be able to find a way to stop the kid from resetting period. The doors opened and shut, Sans grinned.

     _Showtime._

    Chara was surprised to say the least, seeing Sans right outside the doors instead of down by his post like he should be. They flicked their inventory open. Sans summoned an attack and instantly Chara cringed, bracing for impact, only to flash a confused frown when the wall of bones Sans had summoned didn’t move forward. Instead, they served as a tightly packed gate between them, glowing blue and shoved so closely together that there wasn’t even the faintest gap between them.

    “What…?”

    “Good to know I have your attention,” Sans said with an easy grin, “I wanted to talk to ya kid, and I’m not having any of that knife throwing business of yours. That was cheap, even by your standards.”

    “I don’t want to talk to you,” Chara said guardedly, childishly. Sans shrugged.

    “Too bad. Ya gotta,” he said with a chuckle, “That’s the problem with kids, isn’t it? They don’t wanna do something they throw a fit. Us adults gotta deal with it. It’s a pain in the neck.”

    Chara glared at Sans confusedly. The skeleton continued.

    “Look, we both know how this is going to end,” Sans hummed lazily, “I can’t stop you. But the way I see it, you owe me at least a shot at it for all the hell you put me through. Give me one good fight, kid, just like we used to. I won’t even teleport. I’ll stay right here. Sound like fun?”

    Chara seemed to relax slightly, though they were still suspicious. Still worried he had something planned. Sans dropped the row of bones, clearing the space between them. He stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets and waited quietly. Waited for Chara to make some sort of decision. Finally they spoke up.

    “Why should I?”

    Sans shrugged again, eyes half closing lazily, “Don’t be selfish, kid. You and I _both_ know you’ve asked me the same thing before. And besides, it’s about the most decent thing you can do for me right about now.”

    His smile took on a bitter edge, “A bit more decent than just throwing your knife and walking away.”

    He spread his feet apart slightly, ready to dodge or fight when the kid finally moved, “But in the end I can’t really stop you, whatever you do, so you’d just be humoring me I guess.”

    They stood there in silence for a few minutes, Chara scrutinizing him and Sans pretending he didn’t notice or care. He put a lot of effort into looking relaxed and tired; shoulders hunched, a bit of a slouch in his stance, his eyes half shut, his smile unenthusiastic. It felt natural but not. Like he was pretending that’s how he always stood, even if it really was. He hoped the kid didn’t notice. Finally Chara took a step forward, knife ready. Sans’ grin tugged a little wider.

    “Glad you see it my way, kid.”

    Chara didn’t answer. Sans flicked his gaze up to the ceiling for a second, shrugged his shoulders and sighed.

    “I’d love to tell you it’s a beautiful day outside, but it’s actually kinda dreary out here,” Sans began as Chara took another few steps forward, “And birds don’t sing in the underground.”

    Sans grabbed Chara’s soul and sent them flying towards rows of bones, they did their best to dodge. He threw them through interlocking waves of blue and normal attacked, summoned blasters, forced them into difficult tricks and maneuvers as they attempted to dodge. Judging by the number of stutters in time, they weren’t expecting that much ferocity. But then again, it’d been awhile since Sans had been this invested in their fights. Even in the last one he could remember, he’d taken the time to talk, to try to riddle things out. And Chara had done their share of talking as well.

    This time, they fought each other with the tense kind of silence that knew what was coming next. There was a heaviness here, a gravity completely unrelated to the blue in Sans’ attacks. As ominous as the muted darkness of the world and the crack in the horizon.

    This would be the last time they were ever here, staining the snow red.

    And for all the silence and heaviness it was exhausting. The hitches in time that marked Chara’s deaths became fewer and farther in between, and the sidesteps Sans took to didge got tighter and closer. Moisture dripped down the side of Sans’ skull, he huffed exhaustedly with each breath. His attacks started getting sloppier, more brittle and painfully easy to dodge. But Sans was running out of steam, and Chara just kept healing and rejuvenating.

    Sans threw everything he had left into one last long attack, rows of interlocking bones packed so closely together that one slip sent Chara through a dozen hitches in time. And then onto leaps and jumps, some of which tripped them up enough that they died on the attacks following. Finally, Sans summoned up as many blasters as he could at once and threw them in a circle around the kid. After a handful of hitches, they wove through them effortlessly, as if they’d been doing this their entire lives. And for them, it probably had been a lifetime. What amounted to Sans as fifteen or twenty minutes of fighting was hours to someone who kept resetting over and over and over again. Sans wondered how so much determination could even exist in one thing at one time.

    Finally the attacks stopped, and Sans found himself gasping and dizzy, barely able to stand straight without swaying and falling into the snow. He was, in every sense of the word, exhausted. Every part of him was shaking from the effort just to stand, and his body ached for rest. He shut his eyes for a second, letting out a shuddering breath. When he opened them, Chara was walking towards him, knife bared.

    Sans held his hands out in defeat, waiting for the last attack to finally hit. Though from where Chara stood it almost looked like he were asking for a hug. They hesitated.

    “Heh, thanks a lot kid,” Sans said with a tired smile, “Guess you can’t be all bad if you can humor a last wish.”

    He gave a humorless chuckle, “Wow, didn’t know you were one for waterworks, kid.”

    Chara gave him the nastiest glare they could manage.

    “Tch, fine. I’ll pretend I didn’t notice,” Sans said with a shrug and sunk his hands back in his pockets. He waited, eyes half closed, smile tired, doing his best to hide his surprise when Chara didn’t move. They watched him pathetically, crying silently and grimacing the entire time. The knife they’d once held so surely they now played with apprehensively in their hands, as if they were suddenly lost and unsure of how to move forward. As if they’d never killed him or anyone else before. As if they’d regretted everything they’d ever done. It looked familiar, hearkened back to a line Sans had said about being friends and throwing down their weapon. Sans’ own throat got tight.

    He wanted to prompt them further, make them move. He felt uncomfortably vulnerable standing there as he was, shaking and tired. Like he would collapse at any minute. But what could he say? Ask to be spared? Egg them on? He didn’t know how to act or what to say, and he didn’t have enough energy to fight anymore or try to move away himself. He was at the kid’s mercy, trapped into whatever they wanted to do.

    What would he do if they decided that was nothing?

    Chara finally wiped at their eye pathetically, “... I’ve come so far.”

    Sans didn’t say anything.

    “... I… can’t go back anymore.”

    Sans blinked.

    “You… you want me to spare you right?” Chara asked confusedly, “You always ask for that at some point. You… that’s what this is now right?”

    Sans’ grin got a little wider, and he shrugged.

    “Say something!” Chara shouted at him, “Tell me to do something! Anything! Why should I spare you? Why _shouldn’t_ I?”

    Emotions Sans couldn’t fully understand boiled around in his stomach. Exhaustion, bitterness, confusion, and something else he couldn’t fully place. Some sick, queasy feeling that made him want to bury himself in the ground somewhere. His smile twitched.

    “Do what you want,” Sans said tiredly, “Do you _want_ to spare me? After I just spent ten minutes spilling your guts everywhere?”

    “N… no.”

    Sans shrugged, as if that was all the answer the kid needed. It was all they’d ever needed before, he figured. Why wasn’t it good enough now?

    “I’m scared.”

    Sans said nothing, only watched. Chara, for what it was worth, was starting to look much less like a monster and much more like a child. A terrified, mortified child who was finally realizing they’d been doing something horribly wrong. Or had always known and never accepted it. That sick feeling clawed its way through Sans bitterly. He closed his eyes and focused on trying to stand without swaying over into the snow. If the kid left him alone long enough, he was sure he’d fall asleep standing here.

    Finally Chara moved, he could hear their footsteps in the snow getting slowly faster as they approached. They started out hesitant, but quickly grew more assured as they went. Sans swallowed hard, this was going to hurt. He did his best to brace himself.

    He wasn’t prepared at all.

    Pain was such an abstract, weird thing. You could remember something hurt terribly. You would put it into words. But when it happened it was suddenly so much worse than you ever imagine. A focusing point really, like suddenly nothing else in the world mattered except what you were feeling right here, right now. And as soon as the pain faded suddenly your mind thought it was a bearable thing, no matter how much you screamed and cried in the moment.

    The knife came down across Sans’ chest, slashing from shoulder to the bottom of his ribs. Retracing the line Chara had made slowly over time. Even with the boost in defense Sans had, it _hurt_. He felt like it had cut right through every bone in his chest. He stumbled back a few steps, for a minute completely convinced Chara had actually killed him in one hit. But when the pins in needles never followed, his reeling mind centered slightly. His hands clutched at his ruined jacket, stomach churning at the sight of so much red staining his clothes and the snow.

    His gaze flicked up to meet Chara’s eyes for a second and Sans flashed them a painful grin, “Heh… you really had me going there for a second kid.”

    Sans stumbled lamely off the path to Snowdin, glaring hard at the trees nearby. If he could just make it there. If he could just get out of sight.

    “Say hi to Paps for me.”

    He could hear Chara’s retreating footsteps as they ran up the road. Sans laughed painfully to himself. It’d _worked_. He waited until he was in the shelter of the trees before he let himself collapse, groaning at the pain still corkscrewing through every rib. He lay there, exhausted and hurting, focusing only on his breathing. For a few minutes there, Sans had been convinced the kid was going to spare him. What a cruel joke.

    The joke was on them now though.

    Sans grinned at the thought of the look on their face when he showed up in the Judgement Hall. Wouldn’t _that_ be a laugh. He sighed to himself, too tired to laugh. Too tired to move. He just needed to rest. Just for a few minutes. He didn’t even really had a choice. Sans closed his eyes and waited for the pain in his chest to ease. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which nothing goes quite according to plan -- but I guess all the good plans end up that way, right?

Sans awoke with no sense of how much time had passed, all he knew was that he’d been asleep for a while. The world was just as dark as it had been when he’d fallen asleep. He felt stiff and the cold had managed to seep into his bones, making him reluctant to move. He wasn’t in pain anymore though, which was an upside. An upside that would probably vanish as soon as he moved, granted, but he enjoyed the thought for now.

    With a tired groan, Sans pushed off from the ground, sitting up stiffly. There was a dull exhausted ache in every joint, and snow tumbled off his jacket as he moved. Maybe he’d been here longer than he’d thought. He staggered to his feet, a hand nursing his ribs that had finally began throbbing to match the tired pulse of his soul. It hurt, but it was better than being dead. Sans flashed a tired smile, still a bit dumbfounded his stupid idea had actually worked.

    Sans shoved his hands into the pockets of his tattered hoodie and stumbled off towards town. He needed a healing item, something to give him a bit more energy to make it across the underground. Maybe even to help him fight again if he had to. In hindsight, that was probably something Sans should have stored in his inventory beforehand. Any monster with common sense would either be in hiding or evacuated now that Chara was making their way through the underground again. Sans faintly wondered if Grillby’s was still open.

    Just as he’d supposed, Snowdin was deserted. Even the inn and shop were empty. Sans noted with a bitter smile that all the money from the shop’s cash register was gone, as well as several of the shopkeeper’s leftover cinnamon buns. Sans grabbed a few for himself and as a guilty afterthought left a handful of gold on the table. He hoped the shopkeeper was still alive to collect it later.

    He ate and he walked as fast as he could manage without exhausting himself even more, nervous of the silence that seemed to cling to the world. Snowdin was always a bit muted - snow tended to have that effect on the world around it, especially when it was falling. But the general cheeriness of the place was washed away. The whole world felt suffocatingly empty. It sent an unease into his bones, and an unbearably smothering silence as well. It was like walking through a graveyard. The only sound that broke the encompassing silence came from Sans. His hushed breaths and shuffling footsteps echoed back at him unbearably loud compared to the world around him.

    For a few seconds it felt was like he was the only monster left alive in the entire Underground.

    Sans jogged his way to the north of town, smiling exhaustedly when he saw the riverperson’s boat in the dock. He waved in their direction, and they raised a hand quietly in return.

    “Tralala, you're late,” they hummed pleasantly as he stepped on the boat. Sans gave a flat chuckle.

    “Am I?” He asked. They didn't answer. Instead he felt the craft rise out of the water a bit, a dog’s head attached to the boat’s front turning to blink at him before it trotted off on the water’s surface. Sans sat down, eating calmly as the water rushed by them. The air became heavy with moisture as they maneuvered through Waterfall’s caverns, and then pleasantly warm as they approached Hotland. Sans knew it was uncomfortably hot to most monsters, but as a skeleton the heat only managed to seep  comfortably into his bones.

    Finally the ferry trotted to a halt. Sans passed the monster the remaining gold he had.

    “Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it,” he said with a smile that was more genuine than the first he’d given them. He could feel magic humming through him a little less sluggishly than before. It was a rejuvenating feeling. As he turned to leave, the monster behind him spoke up one last time in their pleasantly pitched voice.

    “Change lets them heal,” they said cryptically.

    Sans turned back to face them, a question written on his face. The monster tipped their head back a bit, their eyes glittering someone distantly beneath their hood.

    “Good luck, tralala,” they hummed and pushed their ferry away from the dock.

    Sans shook his head and resumed his walk across the Hotlands. This place, like Snowdin, was deserted. But unlike Snowdin, there was no merciful snow to mask the damage the kid had caused as they’d passed through. There was dust everywhere, scattered across the road, filtering through the notches and cracks in conveyor belts. Some even wafted through the air, stirred by the steam vents that acted as transportation through the burning wasteland. Sans grimaced, covering his mouth and nose with a hoodie sleeve in an attempt to keep the gruesome remains away from his face.

    He walked faster.

    Sans jogged towards the closest elevator, desperate to get to the Core - and from there to Asgore’s castle. He needed to hurry, to arrive before the human could manage to fight or kill his brother. Fear and anxiety began to battle with each other in his nonexistent stomach. He jammed a finger against the elevator call button and had to restrain himself from pacing as he waited. Sans rocked on the balls of his feet apprehensively instead, counting the breaths it took before the doors finally opened and Sans was whisked up to the top floor. He dashed through the MTT resort, hardly taking the time to frown at the now familiar emptiness that haunted the place.

    A mounting urgency drove him faster, so he was just short of a run as he paced his way through the long, electrified corridors of the Core. He grimaced as his footsteps stirred piles of dust that powered the halls like an ashen snow. The pressure in the air here was intense, the Core beginning to heat without anyone in Snowdin working to get ice downriver to cool the machinery. In another time and place, Sans would’ve looked through the familiar halls and tried to find a way to keep the machinery maintained but right now he had more important matters to attend to. He paced past a broken robot, faintly recognizing the face from blueprints Alphys had shown him once before the resets and cycles had infected his timeline. Sans slammed a fist on the call button of the last elevator and waited again, catching his breath.

    Damn those broken shortcuts.

    Once inside the castle Sans picked his way to the judgement hall with a little more caution, checking around corners to see if Chara was nearby. Nothing.

    The riverperson was right, Sans _was_ late. He gulped down rising panic as it wrapped constricting hands around his throat. Was he _too_ late? If so, then Chara would have him to deal with again. Sans passed through the last archway and emerged into the bright yellow and orange light of the judgement hall. His breath caught in his chest as memories forced their way into the forefront of his mind - memories of pinning the human to the walls with bones and splashing blood across the tile floor. Sans leaned over onto the nearest pillar, dazed from the images that danced around in his mind. He would’ve been overwhelmed if voices nearby hadn’t snapped his attention away. Sans shook his head and glared down the hall. There was Chara, standing with knife in hand, clothes powdered with dust. And past him was Papyrus, arms crossed apprehensively as he gazed down at the human.

    “YOU’VE MADE IT BACK AGAIN,” Papyrus said solemnly, “WHY DO YOU CONTINUE THIS WAY, CHARA? YOU KNOW HOW THIS IS GOING TO END.”

    Chara didn’t respond for a moment, as if trying to figure out what to say.

    “YOU’RE QUIETER THIS TIME,” Papyrus observed, a smile teasing at his features, “COULD IT BE THAT MAYBE YOU’VE CONSIDERED WHAT I SAID LAST TIME? I MEANT EVERY WORD.”

    “I know you did,” Chara responded quietly, stopping their advance a dozen or so feet away from the tall skeleton at the end of the hall, “You always do.”

    They paused and then tilted their head to the side, “Hey Papyrus?”

    “YES HUMAN?”

    “Sans told me to say hi to you.”

    Sans could hear the smile in their voice, and he ground his teeth angrily at the sound of it. Papyrus balked, taken aback for a moment. A very painful, sorrowful expression crossed his face and he flinched as if he’d been struck.

    “S-SANS SAID…?”

    Chara took Papyrus’ moment of hesitation and dashed forward, knife ready. And Papyrus didn’t move. He gave Chara a look near tears and just stood there, refusing to defend himself. He wasn’t broken, he just refused to fight. Sans dashed across the hall as fast as he could.

    Papyrus didn’t have to fight. For once Sans was there to fight for him. He reached out and grabbed Chara by the soul, and with a hard pull yanked the kid off their feet as fiercely as he could manage. Chara let out a surprised shout as they were thrown across the hall, bouncing off the ground twice before spinning and slamming into the back wall where Sans had entered. Sans replaced where the child had been standing in the middle of the hall, hands in his pockets and a gleeful grin splitting his features. Chara stumbled to their feet, gasped and slumped back against the wall again. They gazed at him, shocked, confused… scared.

    Sans laughed and raised a hand to wave, “Heya kid! _Knife_ to see ya again!”

    Chara didn’t move, they just continued to gape. Sans shoved his hand back in his hoodie pocket, body shaking with eagerness and pride. Yes, perfect. This was _perfect_. He’d gotten here in time. He’d done it _right_. Sans gave a loud, enthusiastic laugh, shoulders bouncing happily.

    “I’d - ehehehe- ask if you _missed_ me but, I figure you had to for me to be here, right?” Sans chuckled, hardly able to contain himself.

    “B-BROTHER?”

    Sans looked back over his shoulder, still beaming, “Hey Pap! Sorry it took me so long.”

    He turned back to face Chara, who finally seemed to have regained some of their wits and was walking forward again. They were still confused but it was slowly being reclaimed by determination, the need to fight and finish what they’d started.

    “Kid wore me out,” Sans continued, “I kinda passed out there for a bit.”

    “You were _dead_!” Chara said incredulously, “You were bleeding! There’s…?! It’s still on your jacket! I _hit you_! How are you still alive?!”

    Sans winked, “I’m like a bad penny, I just keep turning up when you least expect it.”

    Sans leaned back a bit on his heels, shuffling his feet apart in his equivalent of a fighting stance.

    “Here’s your last chance kid,” Sans barked, his happiness melting away into something more serious and dark, “How about you spare me an’ Pap just this once, yeah? That was an awful lot of effort you put me through just to kick my dust around afterward. Might make me think you don’t appreciate my hard work.”

    To his surprise, Chara hesitated, their determination wavering. They watched him apprehensively, suspiciously. Sans couldn’t blame him. After all, last time he’d said something like this he’d killed the kid in cold blood. But it was his last shot that he had. Well, second to last. But he was saving that last ditch desperation for something more desperate than this.

    “Come on, kid, you were so close to sparing me earlier,” Sans prodded when Chara didn’t move. Sans could feel Papyrus coming up behind him. The taller skeleton stopped just behind his brother.

    “YOU DON’T HAVE TO FIGHT US, CHARA,” Papyrus said encouragingly, seeing Chara’s hesitation as well and reaching for it, “YOU CAN FIX THIS. I… _WE_ BELIEVE IN YOU.”

    Chara’s gaze shifted quickly from one brother to the other. They looked trapped, scared. They flinched back a step, as if their words stung. They didn’t know what to do, they _didn’t know what to do!_ Sans grinned tensely forward, holding his breath in anticipation. This was it. The kid was finally giving up. They were finally-

    “Are you _serious_ Chara?”

    All three heads snapped around to the pillar in the hall nearest Chara where a little golden flower bobbed back and forth. Sans’ smile dropped of his face in an instant. Chara took a hesitant step away from Flowey, their expression suddenly unreadable.

    “You come _this close_ to getting us what we want and _now_ you’re going to listen to these two boneheads?” Flowey said incredulously, though not without the proper amount of honey in his tone, “You’re just gonna throw all our hard work away? Aw _come on!_ That’s just _not fair!_ And here I thought we were friends.”

    Chara’s gaze dropped to their feet. Then they turned to look back up at the skeleton brothers. Something in their expression was become determined again, their lips pressed in a hard line. Their gaze got a little bit darker.

    “Besides, we all know what’s gonna happen if you spare Sans anyway,” Flowey said casually, flipping a leaf dismissively, “He had _so much fun_ ki-!!”

    Sans pinged his magic on the flower and slammed his stem into the ground, cutting him off. Sans’ left eye glowed furiously and he hissed out the breath he’d been holding through his teeth. He started pacing towards Flowey.

    “That is _enough_ out of _you_ ,” Sans growled, “You. You’re the one that got Chara going last time we talked. Is this… is this _your_ fault?”

    Something was clicking to place in the back of his mind. Flowey grinned up at him from where he writhed on the ground.

    “SANS!”

    Sans stopped his approach on the flower, but refused to let go.

    “SANS, PLEASE, YOU CAN’T HURT HIM,” Papyrus continued nervously, “LET HIM GO.”

    Flowey let out a laugh, “Don’t be stupid Sans. Chara makes their own decisions. I just remind them why they started making them in the first place.”

    Sans scowled and looked over in Chara’s direction. The human still said nothing, though he could see their nerve returning full force. Their grip on their knife tightened.

    “He’s right you know,” Chara said coolly, “It _has_ always been my choice.”

    Sans took a step back. This entire situation was going south faster than the kid could reset. And if Flowey decided to get involved, Sans knew he couldn’t fight the weed _and_ Chara. And Papyrus would probably do what he’d always done and refuse to fight. Sans had to admit grudgingly to himself he hadn’t planned well enough this far ahead. He hadn’t planned to confront Chara like this. He’d just focused on reaching Papyrus. What was he supposed to do if Papyrus wouldn’t fight? Chara took a step towards Sans.

    “CHARA DON’T DO THIS!” Papyrus shouted from where he stood, “SANS CAN LET FLOWEY GO. WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO HURT ANYONE.”

    Chara kept a steady glare in Sans’ direction, “You know Sans, you _did_ say you’d tell me what that journal said if we ever met in the judgement hall again.”

    Sans took another step back, dropping his hold on Flowey so he could focus on Chara. The flower disappeared beneath the loose tile he’d cracked up, taking his chance to flee before the fight kicked up again. Though Sans figured he’d still be watching, ready to make things worse the minute he could.

    “I don’t remember making any promises, kiddo,” Sans replied nervously, “Besides, I kinda said that uh… never _actually_ expecting to see you here again. What with the world ending and all.”

    Sans gave Papyrus a sidelong glance. He could see his brother fidgeting where he stood, trying desperately to think of a way to defuse the situation before it got any worse. Sans sighed.

    “That being said, we’re _both_ uh… pretty determined it looks like,” Sans muttered, taking another step back to mirror the one Chara advanced, “Well obviously you’re much more determined than me still. Heh. But uhm… the most _determined_ thing you can do right about now? Would probably be listening to Papyrus.”

    A coy smile crossed Chara’s face, and Sans frowned nervously. That didn’t bode well. The human flipped the knife in their hand playfully.

    “You don’t do mercy well though, Sans,” Chara said quietly, “We’re kind of alike that way.”

    “CHARA DON’T-”

    The human sprung towards Sans with a bitter grin. Sans sidestepped out of the way, his magic flaring to life.

    “SANS DON’T HURT THEM!” Papyrus shouted, running over to intervene. Sans scowled and dropped his magic away, barely managing to dodge another one of Chara’s swipes.

    “You’re not making this easy, Papyrus,” Sans hissed at no one in particular as the kid dove for him again. Sans dodged and kept his hands firmly planted in his hoodie pockets, only using his magic to parry away knife blows when he had to. He kicked away from Chara, backing himself up against one of the pillars. Chara charged for him again. Before he could spring away, a vine wrapped around his ankle, holding him in place. Sans’ mind reeled, suddenly slammed by panic. He held his arms crossed in an x in front of his chest, bracing for the inevitable hit. Maybe by some miracle his defense would be enough to save him a second time. He doubted it.

    Before the blade could hit, though, Chara slammed face first into a wall of bones. Sans gaped in surprise as the world shuddered twice, and Chara finally managed to stop themselves before they hit the wall. The wall dropped almost immediately, and both Chara and Sans stared in shock at Papyrus. He stared fearfully back, horror and concern flickering in his eye sockets.

    “I… W-WHAT WAS THAT?” he asked dumbly, “TH-THE STUTTER THE…”

    Realization dawned on him, and he gasped, “OH MY GOD. CH-CHARA? I’M SORRY I DIDN’T… I DIDN’T MEAN TO-”

    “You just killed me,” Chara said blankly, “Twice.”

    “I’M SORRY! YOU WERE GOING TO HURT SANS I DIDN’T… I DIDN’T MEAN T-TO…!”

    “After all those resets,” Chara said with a dry laugh, “All those times I tried to get you to fight you said no.”

    Papyrus looked close to panic, mortified with what he’d done. Sans was just glad he wasn’t dust yet. Though he supposed that probably made him a bad person. After all, killing didn’t much matter to him anymore. But one thing _did_.

    Sans tore apart the vine that held him with a flurry of bones. He dashed across the hall, throwing Chara against the far wall as he did, just to keep him out of the way. Sans grabbed onto his brother’s arm.

    “We’re leaving,” he said quickly, flinching as more vines exploded from beneath the floor tiles. Flowey was finally intervening.

    “We’re leaving _now_! Hold on Pap!” Sans shouted and grimaced as he opened up a shortcut.

    “SANS THAT’S A BAD IDEA!” Papyrus shouted as the sound of howling wind split the air.

    “Better than dying,” was Sans only reply as he dragged them both in.

Before the gap closed, Sans could faintly hear the sound of Flowey screaming, and Chara screaming back. It sounded an awful lot like Flowey accusing Chara of - once again - screwing everything up. Sans faintly wondered if they’d be too busy fighting each other to bother giving chase.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shortcuts are terrifying, and so is your brother.

Sans clung to Papyrus for dear life as the current of the tear in space ripped them away from the judgement hall. He didn’t know where they would end up. He couldn’t even slow their fall as they went. All he knew was it was dark and loud. The sound of static and wind clogged his senses and set his teeth on edge. He could feel the noise humming through every bone in his body. The rush of the wind from their fall - were they even falling? - tore at his clothes with cold and steely fingers. It clung to every part of his being, threatening to tear him apart. It stole his breath away and stabbed at his joints. This was a _terrible_ idea.

    Beside him he could hear the muffled sound of Papyrus screaming, having never faced the fall and the black, void-like space. Was Papyrus claustrophobic? Sans should probably know if that was a thing. But then again he’d never forced him through something like this before. Never had to ask.

     _Whoops_.

    Sans shielded his face with his arm as the tear suddenly reopened before them, flashing the once dark space with a blinding teal light. Sans and Papyrus collapsed out of the shortcut, letting out identical cries as they were suddenly freed from the grip of the wind. They landed with a hard splash in cool water and for a second Sans panicked. He couldn’t swim, _he couldn’t swim!_ His forearms grazed against the gravelly bottom of whatever they’d landed in and Sans pushed himself to the surface, exploding out of the water with a gasp. The water was barely waist high to him, praise Asgore. Papyrus sputtered to the surface beside him, the water hugging his thighs as he stood. They’d landed in Waterfall.

    Sans glanced around wildly, half expecting Flowey or Chara to have somehow magically followed them this far. He wouldn’t put it past them, honestly. He was pleasantly surprised when that wasn’t the case though, and let out a tense sigh of relief when the only flowers he saw were glowing blue and faintly whispering to themselves.

    “SANS!”

    Sans jumped and spun to face his brother. His brother towered over him, his expression nothing less than overwhelmed.

    “WHAT ARE YOU _DOING_ HERE?!” Papyrus shouted, “YOU AREN’T _SUPPOSED_ TO BE HERE!”

    Sans blinked, surprised. That… wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting.

    “WHAT DID YOU _DO_?! HOW ARE YOU HERE?! I DON’T UNDERSTAND…! DID CHARA ACTUALLY MISS YOU OR…? NO, NO THEY COULDN’T BECAUSE I WOULD’VE KNOWN YOU WOULD’VE COME FOUND ME. IS THIS MORE OF YOUR TIME SPACE SHENANIGANS? I DON’T UNDERSTAND!!”

    Sans flinched, taking a step back. If he were capable, he would’ve gone pale.

    “AND CHARA, THEY… THEY WERE GOING TO SPARE US FOR A FEW SECONDS THERE AND I THOUGHT… BUT I’M SO CONFUSED? YOU ASKED THEM TO SPARE US AND THEN YOU JUST WENT RIGHT AHEAD AND ANTAGONIZED FLOWEY AS IF IT WERE NOTHING! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!”

    Papyrus was shaking he was so emotional, his arms waving wildly and exasperatedly as he spoke. Sans’ chest felt tight.

    “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” he continued avidly, “LET ALONE MESSING WITH THE TIMELINE! AND WHAT WAS THAT _THING_ YOU JUST MADE? WAS THAT YOUR SHORTCUT?! YOU CAN’T USE THOSE SANS, DON’T YOU REALIZE EVERYTHING IS FALLING APART!! YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE IT WORSE AND YOU CAN’T _DO_ THAT! THIS TIMELINE ISN’T LIKE THE ONE WHERE YOU WERE THE ONE IN THE JUDGEMENT HALL YOU CAN’T JUST WALK AROUND LIKE IT IS AND PICKING FIGHTS WITH PEOPLE IT’S NOT RIGHT YOU CAN’T… YOU CAN’T…!”

    Papyrus gasped in a few deep breaths, finally running out of steam. But he was still shaking, hugging himself pathetically as if it would help him keep his fraying emotions together. Any anger that had been in his expression began melting away into something sadder. Sans managed a shaky smile.

    “You uh… finished?” his voice was a lot more hoarse than he’d wanted it to be.

    Papyrus shook his head quickly, his jaw clenched in a miserable frown. He pitched forward and threw himself on Sans, wrapping the smaller skeleton in a hug and dragging him close. He collapsed into nervous, gasping sobs, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

    “I’M S-SORRY I-I’M SORRY,” he stammered in between shaking breaths, “Y-YOU’RE ALIVE I C-CAN’T… C-CAN’T BE-L-LIEVE…”

    Sans sighed into his brother’s embrace and returned it. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. He should’ve thought ahead to this. Should have expected this. Sans gulped down his own emotions, trying not to be consumed. It was the strangest mix between flat out relief and dismay he’d ever felt in his life. Relief that they were both alive. Grief and bitterness at everything Papyrus had been through and how badly Sans had managed to screw up the last few minutes, hours, resets… everything.

    They held each other for a while. The only sounds were Papyrus’ sobs, and the broken pieces of his rant that the echo flowers managed to speak back to them. Every handful of breaths Papyrus would squeeze Sans a little bit tighter, as if terrified the minute he let go Sans would disappear again. It aggravated the crack in his chest, and Sans stifled a grunt when a fresh pain made its way through his ribs.

    Papyrus released him almost instantly, wiping away at his tears fiercely.

    “S-SORRY SORRY,” he said shakily, “A-ARE YOU…? YOU’RE... HURT.”

    He looked pointedly at Sans’ ruined jacket. Sans dropped his gaze down to the slash and the gruesome red stain that had effectively destroyed his clothes. _Shit_ he looked a mess. Papyrus reached a hand tentatively forward, only to be stopped when Sans waved it away.

    “I’m fine, really,” Sans said with an uneasy smile, “I know it looks bad but it’s just ketchup. Wait I’ll show you.”

    He unzipped what he could and pulled apart the rest, opening the jacket wide to show what remained of dozens of slashed open ketchup packets attached to the inside. Grillby had helped him place them there, melting the plastic they were held in just enough to make them stick. Once they’d dried they were practically fused to the cloth. He had more on the inside of his shirt as well, though the knife hadn’t managed to tear quite so many of them open. Sans let out a quiet laugh.

    “Had to make it look convincing, ya know?”

    Papyrus looked unconvinced, the ridges above his eye sockets scrunching down in concern, “BUT… CHARA STILL HAD TO…”

    Sans stuffed his hands in his pockets, shrugging, “I equipped an item that gave me a defence boost. It’s actually… pretty stupidly simple. I should’ve thought of something like that sooner.”

    Sans chuckled, “I mean… I’m not a fighter like you or Undyne so...”

    He trailed off into uncomfortable silence, at a loss for what to say. He made a useless gesture with his hand as if that could explain everything. Papyrus just blinked back at him, equally unsure and tense. Sans was suddenly painfully aware of how long it’d been since they’d last spoken to each other. They had a lot to catch up on, a lot to do, a lot to figure out and he had no idea where to start. His chest ached.

    “We should… get out of the water,” Sans offered, finally breaking the silence. Papyrus nodded quietly and waded onto dry land, offering a hand to help his brother out of the last muddy bit before the shore turned to the normal limestone gravel of Waterfall’s floor. Sans was grateful neither of them had skin, or he was sure they’d both be shivering. They were soaked to the, well, bone. Sans slipped his jacket off his shoulders and wrung it out as best he could, grimacing and the gooey mess of ketchup came off on his hands. Papyrus waited quietly.

    Sans looked up at his brother, frowning, “You uh… doing okay Pap?”

    “MAYBE? NO?” Papyrus sighed, rubbing the side of his face tiredly with a hand, “I SHOULD BE. I KNOW I SHOULD BE BUT I’M NOT.”

    Sans gave a sad laugh, his gaze dropping to his feet, “You uh… _really_ weren’t expecting to see me again were you?”

    Papyrus waved a hand, “WELL OF COURSE NOT BROTHER! I _EXPECTED_ YOU TO BE...! I MEAN... EVERY SINGLE TIME CHARA… WAIT.”

    His eye sockets narrowed slightly, “OH NO, DON’T DO THAT.”

    “Do what, Pap?”

    “THAT THING YOU DO WHEN YOU SAY ONE THING BUT YOU MEAN SOMETHING ELSE,” Papyrus said stiffly, “YOU AND CHARA BOTH DO THAT, IT MAKES YOU SO HARD TO READ.”

    Sans gave a snort, “Oh really?”

    “YES _REALLY,_ SANS! YOU’RE HURT AND I WANT TO HELP, NOT MAKE IT WORSE,” his voice softened a bit, “YOU CAN’T JUST PREEMPTIVELY FRAME ME LIKE THAT.”

    Sans let out an angry laugh, “ _Frame_ you?”

    “YES, THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE DOING!” Papyrus was looking overwhelmed again, and he wrung his hands together nervously, “WHAT DID YOU MEAN, _EXPECTING_ TO SEE YOU AGAIN? I MEAN, YOU’RE RIGHT I WASN’T BUT… IT WASN’T FOR WHATEVER REASON YOU’RE THINKING. I THOUGHT YOU WERE GONE FOREVER SANS!”

    “But I wasn’t gone forever,” Sans said guardedly, “I came back every reset.”

    Papyrus opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was died in his throat before he could say it. All he managed was a strange, exasperated whine that eventually pandered into a quiet, “WELL… YES…”

    “But you know,” Sans gave a tired smile, “You know who _didn’t_ come back every reset?”

    Papyrus blinked.

    “You Pap. Where did you go?” Sans’ throat felt tight, “I remember you trying to save me once. Like… three resets ago? And I remember you making breakfast resets before that. But you started disappearing. Heh, not even that stupid flower knew where you went.”

    Sans cleared his throat, his smile growing more bitter and defeated by the second, “I mean… if I didn’t know any better Pap, I’d say you’ve been… avoiding me.”

    Man, this was _not_ how he’d thought this was going to go. There weren’t many things Sans had been expecting, but the awkward silences and weird confessions weren’t nearly close to being on the list. He’d thought - hoped - that everything would be fine. They’d pair up seamlessly as if nothing bad had ever happened before. They could fix this together.

    Whatever _this_ was, it wasn’t that.

    “Heh, then there’s the judgement hall business,” Sans said coldly, “How do you know I fought Chara in the judgement hall? You were always…”

    Sans’ voice broke and it took him a second to continue, “... you weren’t there to remember that.”

    The two brothers watched each other in uncomfortable silence, both guardedly waiting for the other to say something that would make some kind of sense. Neither of them willing to speak up first. As for Sans, he didn’t even know where to start. Conflicting and bitter feelings were welling up inside of him and he didn’t know what to do about them. Papyrus _had_ been avoiding him. _Had_ given up on him. But how could he have, when he’d just spent who knew how long crying into Sans’ shoulder, happy he was alive? How did Papyrus know the timeline was broken? How could the shortcuts possibly make something like that _worse_? Sans’ breathing got faster, his thoughts spinning.

    “Look you’re gonna have to explain some things to me Pap because I’m confused and the stuff I’m filling the holes with isn’t good, okay?” Sans suddenly burst out, making his brother jump, “I’ve been alone for _way_ too long, alright? I’ve been alone and stupid and I’ve kind of been giving up over here.”

    Papyrus didn’t answer. He just watched Sans pensively, waiting for something Sans couldn’t fathom. It was infuriating. For a few sharp, angry seconds Sans wanted to just shake his shoulders and demand he spill his thoughts. Tell him what he was thinking. Tell him what he was feeling. Tell him how or why everything was happening the way it was and how it could be fixed. To do anything but just stand there and blink like Sans was some kind of animal about to snap.

    A very quiet, hissing, familiar train of thought echoed in Sans’ skull. One that had driven him very desperate hardly a reset ago.

     _He read your journal, didn’t he? When he’d tried to save you and it had been in your pocket._

    Sans grinned.

     _He had to, that’s the only way he could know you used to fight Chara in the judgement hall._

    A giggle bubbled it’s way into Sans’ throat. Papyrus frowned in concern.

     _He knows you didn’t spare them. And now he’s afraid of you. You, who are supposed to be the only person in the world that understands why he won’t kill anyone. But you screwed that up too, didn’t you? You got in the way, and he killed that kid to save you._

     _If he hated you before, how more much could he possibly hate you know?_

    What started as a quiet laugh quickly strung itself into a painful, violent string of laughter Sans had no hope of stopping. It was all just _too much_. It was ridiculous. Everything was just a pointless, stupid mess and he’d managed to mess it up even further.

    “SANS… W-WHAT’S SO FUNNY?” Papyrus asked, his voice laced with concern.

    Sans gasped in a breath to speak, only to have it stolen away by vicious laughter again. The whole situation was so ridiculously messed up. So hilariously warped. How had he ever, _ever_ possibly hoped to fix it? Why had he even _tried?_

    “SANS YOU’RE SCARING ME, PLEASE,” Papyrus’s voice wobbled tearfully, “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?”

    Sans finally managed to choke out between gasps and laughs, “Wanna know what’s funny Pap?”

    He giggled, “You’re right, I shouldn’t be here.”

    The effort it took to keep from laughing hurt his chest and everything else. But he couldn’t stop laughing. Sans doubled over, resting his hands on his knees, barely able to keep himself from collapsing from the pain and the laughter. And each bite his ribs gave him just made him want to laugh harder. Was it possible to die like this? What a stupid way to go.

    “SANS…”

    “I-it’s only a freak accident that I’m here anyway,” Sans babble, grinning so wide it hurt, “If I’d just managed to kill myself last reset I never would’ve known... !”

    “BROTHER PLEASE…”

     _Shit_ his chest _hurt_. It hurt so much he thought he’d be sick. It was _hilarious_.

    “But I couldn’t even do that right, right?” Sans finally managed to look up at Papyrus again, “Because I can never do _anything right_ , _right?!”_

    “SANS STOP LAUGHING!”

    “Nah, bro this is priceless,” Sans grinned, “My whole fucking life is a joke. Don’t you get it?! And look what I’ve messed up again! Looks like I can’t leave it at killing the kid myself, gotta drag you down into it too, huh? No wonder you stopped coming to-”

    “ _SANS SHUT UP!”_

    Sans suddenly found himself pushed back against the wall. Sans gasped, his laughter finally abating as surprise and then shock settled in. Papyrus had a tight grip on his shoulder, holding him pinned to the wall, gaze set in a stiff glare that would have bored right through Sans if it were possible. Both of their souls were glowing brightly, and Papyrus’ free hand shook. Sans blinked stupidly, his mind slowly realizing what had happened, what had _almost_ happened.

    They stood there frozen, breathing harshly as if they’d been fighting even though neither had so much as thrown a hit. Papyrus from bitter anger, Sans from his manic laughter. After he was sure all other laughing attacks had been averted, Papyrus gave Sans’ shoulder one last hard squeeze before letting him go. Sans promptly slumped down the wall, too defeated and shaken to bother standing. The flowers laughed at him, sick mockeries of his own voice playing over and over again.

    “COME ON,” Papyrus said bitterly, “WE NEED TO LEAVE. THE FLOWERS WILL LEAD THEM RIGHT TO US.”

    Sans didn’t move.

    “SANS YOU ARE COMING WITH ME EVEN IF I HAVE TO CARRY YOU.”

    “Heh… why bother, Pap?”

    “SANS, LOOK AT ME.”

    With a sigh, he obliged.

    “WE’LL START WITH THE FACT THAT YOU CAN’T BE ALONE WITH YOUR OWN THOUGHTS,” Papyrus sighed, “AND END WITH WHETHER YOU BELIEVE IT OR NOT, YOU’RE MY BROTHER AND I LOVE YOU.”

    Sans gave a pitiful laugh and said as sarcastically as his shuddering voice could manage, “Well why didn’t you say so?”

    Papyrus frowned, “BECAUSE YOU WON’T LISTEN TO ME, BONEHEAD. YOU NEVER HAVE AND YOU NEVER WILL.”

    He sighed heavily, and a smile worked it’s way across Papyrus’ face.

    “BUT IF I CAN PROVE IT BY KEEPING YOU ALIVE, I WILL. PLEASE SANS, DON’T GIVE UP ON ME YET,” he offered a hand to Sans, “WE’LL MAKE IT THROUGH THIS. WE CAN FIX THIS.”

    Sans took his brother’s hand tiredly and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

    “BUT SANS, PLEASE PROMISE ME SOMETHING.”

    “Not too good with promises, Pap,” came the exhausted reply.

    Papyrus began walking away, Sans followed.

    “FINE NOT A PROMISE THEN. CALL IT PAYBACK FOR WHATEVER YOU THINK YOU DID TO FAIL ME SO BADLY.”

    “... what do you want from me?”

    “IF WE FIX THIS, WE’LL FIX IT MY WAY,” Papyrus glanced down at his brother, resolved, “NO MORE KILLING, SANS.”

    Sans shrugged, “Too tired to fight anymore anyway.”

    “THAT’S THE SPIRIT.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the brothers finally discuss some things they should've been talking about eons ago. Let's handle this like weepy adults, alright?

 They walked in miserable silence for almost an hour, picking their way cautiously through Waterfall. Well, Papyrus was anyway. Sans simply followed with his hands in his pockets and his gaze low, letting himself sink into an odd sense of emotional numbness while his brother did all the hard work. It was a familiar feeling. Almost normal. Sans needed some normal in his life right now, even the warped version this surely was.  

    Papyrus was an excellent guide anyway. Not because Sans didn’t know Waterfall - it was hard to get lost in such a small place as the Underground, unless you were in the Capitol. He had his bearings pretty well, though if he were completely honest with himself he would admit he was too busy wallowing in self pity and following blindly to really _care_ where they were exactly. He at least knew they were in the upper level of Waterfall even if he didn’t know exactly where that was.

    No, Papyrus was a good guide because he was cunning. Prideful and optimistic as well, but not the slightest bit naive. Sans was reminded once again why Undyne had continued to train his brother. If his and Papyrus’ morals were switched, he doubted even Chara would stand a chance. Papyrus was watchful in all the right ways. He stopped them when an abnormal noise echoed down the corridor. Payed close attention to the echo flowers to listen for hints that Chara or Flowey had come through. He walked first around blind corners and always, _always_ , stayed between Sans and whatever danger he thought he sensed at the moment. If Sans had the energy to care, he’d think it was endearing. But as it stood now, it just made him feel a bit more miserable. Papyrus wasn’t trying to be protective - he thought Sans couldn’t protect himself. Not without killing anyone at least.

    That’s what Sans figured, anyway.

    But his brother had no reason to worry. Sans had all but given up. He didn’t know how to get out of this. There was a wall in front of him he couldn’t cross. For all his work, for all his struggling and clawing and grappling with the timeline he had accomplished virtually nothing. They still couldn’t kill Chara - even if they wanted to. And it would take the intervention of determination, or the divine, or some kind of power unknown to them to even think about fixing the crack in their world. As it stood now, Sans and Papyrus barely had enough godhood in them to face death as it came to them. Well, maybe Papyrus did. But Sans didn’t. Sans had forced them to run.

    No, all Sans had accomplished was dragging his brother body and soul down to his own miserable and pointless level. Given him a few fluttering seconds of hope before inevitably dashing them again. And he was _tired_. All the weariness from the previous resets, the defeated feeling of remorse and hopelessness that he’d managed to fend off just long enough to screw things up again, was crashing down on him in waves. It pulled with it the full body fatigue of using his shortcut and countering Chara’s attacks, plus whatever that fit was he’d had earlier, and it zapped him of both willpower and physical strength alike. Each footstep was a chore, every breath yanked at his existence with bitter, useless pulls.

    Sans wanted to sleep. Sans wanted to close his eyes and curl up on the ground and sleep until someone found him and turned him to dust before he could wake again. Sans desperately, with every fiber of his being, wanted to give up. But unfortunately for him, he was stuck with the only person in the underground that could ever convince him that giving up wasn’t completely necessary. The only person in the underground he wasn’t allowed to give up around, even if he technically already had. It was both a blessing and a curse, being stuck here with his brother. And quite the shame that Papyrus had such a sorry, useless bag of bones to rely on in the midst of this disaster they were stuck in.

    “SANS,” Papyrus’ voice pulled Sans away from his darkening thoughts reluctantly. He blinked slowly up at his brother as if he’d been snapped out of a trance.

    “YOU’RE WALKING VERY SLOWLY,” Papyrus’ voice was quiet, gentle. Hesitant even, “I KNOW YOU’RE TIRED BUT… WE NEED TO KEEP MOVING. WE CAN’T LET CHARA AND FLOWEY FIND US BEFORE WE CAN FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO.”

     _There’s nothing we can do_.

    “... sure.”

    Papyrus scrutinized Sans for a moment, eyes brimming with tired concern. There was something guarded in his expression that Sans didn’t have the energy to decypher.

    “HOW MUCH FARTHER CAN YOU GO?”

    Sans dropped his gaze sluggishly down to his feet, then shrugged, “As far as I have to.”

    Another long pause fell over them. Sans could feel his brother scrutinizing him again, probably trying to figure out if he could trust Sans at his word or not. Papyrus was too good of a person to leave Sans behind, even if he would be better off for it. Well… the Papyrus that Sans could _remember_ was like that. Of course, that was the same Papyrus that would never leave him to his own devices for a handful of resets. Or give up on trying to save him, or resort to underhanded and painful traps to slow a rampaging human. The same Papyrus that had transparent reasons for everything he did and didn’t stand there ignoring Sans’ questions about where he was and what he’d been doing. The Papyrus he remembered didn’t learn from the cruelty of deadly resets. Bits and pieces of that Papyrus were here. But he didn’t know which ones were still there and which had been filtered out in order to survive what had been happening.

    Yet another failure on Sans’ part - forcing his brother to know what was going on. If ignorance was bliss then awareness was nothing short of a living hell.

    Finally Papyrus’ voice broke the silence.

    “YOU’RE EXHAUSTED, AREN’T YOU?” he sighed, his voice not unkind, “COME ON, LET’S FIND SOMEPLACE TO REST FOR A BIT.”

    Sans took a step to follow only to suddenly find himself scooped up in his brother’s arms. Sans felt shame and annoyance prickle it’s way through his apathetic misery.

    “I can walk.”

    “SANS YOU’RE YOU’RE PRACTICALLY SLEEPWALKING RIGHT NOW,” Papyrus chided smugly, “I WON’T HAVE YOU FALLING DOWN JUST BECAUSE I’M BEING PARANOID.”

    Sans swallowed down a half finished thought about the appeal of falling down right about now. Instead he let himself shut down - eyes half closing and body curling in on itself a bit as he relaxed into his brother’s hold. His mind was a little too blindly bitter to allow him any sleep, but he could at least settle into some place where he didn’t think. He just let himself feel his brother’s fast steps, the jolts at the end of every smooth movement.

    Papyrus moved remarkably fast for someone burdened down by Sans’ dead weight. He hadn’t truly realized how much he’d been slowing the taller skeleton down until now. Papyrus walked just short of a jog, his long legs striding down the path with quiet assurity. His brother was probably much more familiar with Waterfall than Sans was, having gotten used to the uneven and slick gravel paths during his many trips to train with Undyne. The only time his footsteps seemed to falter was when they passed echo flowers. Then he would slow down considerably, taking his time to pick silently around them so not even his echoing footsteps could be caught up and used against him. It was a consideration Sans hadn’t even thought of.

    Papyrus finally meandered his way onto lesser used byways, the paths here more rocky and sometimes concealed amidst expanses of tall grasses. These Papyrus had no choice but to wade through, and he did so with a wince, knowing that when the blades bent around him they’d show a sure path of where he’d gone. But it did give him an idea.

    Papyrus waded past several patches of the tall grass, stomping roughly and heedlessly through and bending all sorts of zigzagging paths. They were a bit obvious and easy to follow, but not abnormally so. Sans realized what his brother was doing and blinked in muted amazement. After going forward through a couple dozen of these patches, Papyrus turned and picked his way tenderly back the way he’d come, careful where he stepped so as not to leave any sign of his backtracking. He found the densest, tallest growing patch of all of them and with careful steps waded through it and to the wall, finally sinking down so his head and shoulders disappeared beneath the tall grass. Hopefully anyone who passed would see the obvious trail forward and keep going, forgetting to scour the sides to find them huddling against the wall as they did.

    Papyrus sat there tensely, quietly, listening for any signs that the’d been followed or spotted. He was met with the sound of the river nearby and the lazy dripping of water from the stalactites above. Sans found himself holding his breath, waiting in anticipation for something to pop through the grass and prove they were much less safe then the quiet of the world had lulled them into believing. But the illusion was never broken, and Sans felt his brother’s whole body relax in an exhausted sigh as he finally switched from ‘guard mode’ into something less rigid and more normal. Sans looked up and realized Papyrus was every bit as exhausted as he himself felt. His brother’s eyes half closed and his face settled into a tired grimace. He leaned his head back against the wall behind him, the arms that had once clutched Sans close relaxing to allow his brother to move more freely.

    “I THINK… WE’RE SAFE FOR NOW,” Papyrus whispered.

    Sans crawled gently away from his brother’s body to slump against the wall beside him. He pulled his hood over his head, slouching against the cool, slick stone and allowing himself to feel a little grateful that he was made of bone instead of something fleshy. Out of all the inconveniences he found in existing, shivering cold and miserable wet weren’t among them. Sans pulled his knees close to his chest and braced his crossed arms on top of them, burying his head there and wondering if sleep would take him like this. He could feel Papyrus collapsing slowly beside him, his brother’s long body slumping slowly so his shoulder blades held his weight against the wall and his head lulled forward, chin tucked against his bony chest.

    There was a soft crackle of magic and Sans glanced over to watch as Papyrus began setting something up in the grass. Bones glowing slightly blue peaked their way up through the ground, spaced apart and obscured in the grass. They barely showed their heads above the gravel, some farther than others, joining the fractured and glowing bits of crystal that had fallen from the ceiling over the years to form the dazzling cave floor. Papyrus worked a hand lazily through the air, conducting the the magic with faultless control even in spite of his fatigue. After a few more moments of building and positioning, Papyrus let his hand drop to his side tiredly, accomplishment tinting the edge of his sigh.

    Sans blinked. Papyrus had made a trap.

    “... how long have you been making things like that?”

    Papyrus shrugged, “SINCE IT BECAME NECESSARY, I SUPPOSE.”

    He paused, fidgeting with his hands uncomfortably before explaining, “IT’S REALLY NOT THAT DANGEROUS. SOMEONE WITH A LEVEL OF VIOLENCE AS HIGH AS CHARA’S PROBABLY WON’T EVEN FEEL THE HIT. THEIR DEFENCE WILL ABSORB IT ALL. BUT IT WILL TELL ME IF SOMEONE STEPS ON IT, AND THE FOREWARNING WILL BE… HELPFUL.”

    He dug his fingers into one of his knuckles and fiddled with it, frowning, “IT WILL KEEP YOU HERE, I SUPPOSE. THEY ONLY TAKE ONE HP BUT…”

    He hesitated a moment.

    “... YOU… STILL HAVE ONE HP, RIGHT?”

    Sans shrugged in response, watching the obscured bone closest to him as it pulsated faintly, “Probably half.”

    “BECAUSE OF CHARA?”

    Sans nodded.

    Papyrus allowed the conversation to end there, choosing instead to fidget with his hands in a nervous tick that Sans was beginning to notice more and more. He bit down the urge to tell Papyrus to stop. His brother deserved to cope with the situation any way he needed to. Sans himself was hardly coping at all. Unless shutting down completely could be called a coping mechanism - which Sans was mostly sure it wasn’t. In spite of himself, though, Sans felt himself drifting into a doze.

    “... KNOCK KNOCK.”

    Sans blinked, looking up at his brother slowly, sleep in his eyes. He said nothing.

    “OH COME ON SANS,” Papyrus chuckled quietly, “YOU CANNOT TELL ME IN THE HANDFUL OF RESETS I’VE BEEN GONE, YOU’VE MANAGED TO FORGET THE BASIC FUNCTION OF A KNOCK-KNOCK JOKE.”

    Sans smirked. Or at least, he tried to. He was sure it just came across as a miserable sort of half smile.

    “KNOCK KNOCK,” Papyrus pressed again.

    “... who’s there?”

    “INTERRUPTING ECHO FLOWER.”

    Sans huffed a tired sigh and buried his head in his arms once again. Papyrus nudged him with an elbow.

    “YOU ARE THE RUDEST DOOR-ANSWERER IN THE WORLD.”

    “I know how the joke ends,” Sans said heavily, “What’s the point in letting you finish?”

    “YOU COULD HUMOR ME.”

    Papyrus lapsed into quiet again. Sans could hear his fidgeting picking up. It was starting to become faintly annoying. He closed his eyes.

    “... IS THAT WHY YOU’VE GIVEN UP?”

    Sans lifted his head again to catch Papyrus in a questioning frown.

    “BECAUSE YOU KNOW HOW IT’S GOING TO END?”

    Sans shrugged.

    Papyrus waited.

    “You refuse to fight. I don’t care anymore,” Sans finally sighed, “And Chara can’t die. _You_ tell _me_ how this ends.”

    “WE COULD CONVINCE THEM TO STOP,” Papyrus mused quietly, “THEY COULD SPARE US.”

    Sans gave a derisive snort.

    “THEY’VE DONE IT ONCE BEFORE.”

    “Yeah, and now they never will again,” Sans huffed, “We’ll throw that on the pile with the rest of the stupid shit I’ve managed to pull.”

    “IT WAS A BAD THING,” Papyrus agreed, “BUT YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE DOING WHAT YOU HAD TO DO.”

    Sans gave a harsh laugh, startling his brother, “And I bet you think the same thing about Chara.”

    “NOT AT ALL,” Papyrus said with a _tsk,_ relaxing back into his tired slouch, “CHARA KNOWS WHAT THEY’RE DOING IS WRONG. THEY THINK THEY HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE.”

    Papyrus rubbed the side of his face tiredly, “THEY THINK A LOT LIKE YOU ACTUALLY. THEY THINK THEY DON’T DESERVE A HAPPY ENDING.”

    Sans buried his head in his arms, his face contorted into a tight grimace.

    “... I’M SORRY,” Papyrus sighed, “I’M… TALKING ABOUT YOUR JOURNAL.”

    “You shouldn’t know any of that.”

    “I KNOW,” his brother began fiddling with his hands again, “I JUST… WHEN I FOUND IT I WAS STILL UNSURE… I STILL THOUGHT THE THINGS I REMEMBERED WERE JUST NIGHTMARES. I THOUGHT YOU WERE GONE FOREVER AND… I…”

    Papyrus bit back a sob that had cleverly disguised itself as a hiccup in his ribcage, “... I WANTED TO FEEL LIKE YOU WERE CLOSE ONE LAST TIME. AND THEN I KEPT READING AND… FIGURED OUT… EVERYTHING.”

    Papyrus paused, taking a shaky breath as he tried to compose himself, “AND I WAS SO SCARED AND CONFUSED BECAUSE YOU’D DIED FIRST. AND I FELT SO GUILTY FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO SAVE YOU AND I…!”

    Sans allowed himself to look back up at his brother, watching as quiet tears rolled down his cheekbones. Papyrus wiped them away furiously, an angry, bitter grimace on his face.

    “I STARTED THINKING TERRIBLE THINGS. I WANTED TO… SO _BADLY_ I WANTED TO GIVE UP ON EVERYTHING. I WANTED CHARA TO TURN ME INTO DUST, BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WANTED TO KILL THEM OVER AND OVER AGAIN. IT’S… THE FIRST TIME I’VE FELT ANYTHING CLOSE TO ANGUISH IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. IT WAS TERRIFYING.”

    Papyrus let out a sad chuckle, “AND THEN… I REMEMBERED THE ONE PASSAGE YOU WROTE ABOUT CHARA TRYING TO SPARE YOU AND I… I DON’T KNOW, I CLUNG TO IT? I THOUGHT SURELY IF THEY COULD SPARE YOU EVEN ONCE, I COULD GET THEM TO DO IT RIGHT? AND IT NEVER HAPPENED. EVER. NOT EVEN ONCE.”

    Papyrus gave one of his knuckles a particularly hard yank and hissed a breath in painfully. He moved his hand a bit, rasping his fingers nervously against the next knuckle in line. Sans got the feeling if his brother kept going long enough he might actually fracture one of his knuckles. He frowned.

    “I TRIED TALKING TO THEM OVER AND OVER AGAIN, THEN ENTIRE TIME WE FOUGHT. I… LEARNED A LOT I SUPPOSE,” he gave a sad smile at this, “I THOUGHT… MAYBE IF I TALKED TO THEM LONG ENOUGH I COULD FIX EVERYTHING BEFORE YOU COULD FIGURE OUT WHAT WAS HAPPENING AGAIN. I THOUGHT I COULD HELP.”

    Papyrus finally turned to Sans, his expression melting into nothing less than pained and desperate, “I JUST MADE EVERYTHING WORSE DIDN’T I. YOU SAID YOU… YOU TRIED TO…”

    He gave a shuddering sigh, “YOU HURT YOURSELF, DIDN’T YOU?”

    Sans looked away.

    “AND I WASN’T THERE TO STOP YOU.”

    “S’not really something you’re supposed to be responsible for,” Sans said quietly.

    “BUT YOU NEVER WOULD HAVE TRIED IT IF I WAS THERE,” Papyrus’ voice dropped just below a whisper, so faint Sans could hardly hear it over his own breathing, “I CAN’T BELIEVE I WAS SO SHORTSIGHTED. I SHOULD’VE BEEN THERE FOR YOU AND I WASN’T.”

    “So all that time you were trying to figure out Chara?”

    “SOME OF IT,” Papyrus paused before continuing, “...AND… I COULDN'T WATCH YOU DIE AGAIN. YOU… YOU FELL TO DUST IN MY ARMS SANS.”

    His brother’s hands stopped their fidgeting. The long fingers clenched into fists and then relaxed again, as if gripping something invisible. Papyrus looked like he might start crying again and his voice got tighter.

    “I TRIED SO HARD TO GET TO YOU IN TIME AND I WAS JUST FEET AWAY FROM YOU WHEN CHARA…” he shuddered, “AND THEN YOUR DUST WAS EVERYWHERE AND I COULDN’T HOLD ONTO YOU ANYMORE. YOU WERE JUST GONE.”

    A few tears broke free from his brother’s eye sockets and Papyrus hugged himself pathetically. Sans reached out a hand hesitantly, once again at a loss for what to do. Unsure how to comfort grief that was directed towards himself. He settled on putting a hand on Papyrus’ shoulder. Papyrus leaned into it, tilting his head to the side to brush against Sans’ fingers with his cheekbone.

    “THERE WAS JUST DUST AND YOUR… BLEEDING MAGIC EVERYWHERE. I COULDN’T DO IT AGAIN SANS I’M SORRY. I WASN’T STRONG ENOUGH. I’M… I’M SORRY.”

    Papyrus leaned over and wrapped his arms around Sans again, dragging him close and hugging him. And Sans let him. After a few moments he even hugged Papyrus back, letting himself be reassured by the shuddering breaths in Papyrus’ ribcage. Letting himself be rocked gently by a genuine embrace. His soul ached. He’d missed this. Missed Papyrus. Missed the times when the world was less scary and skewed up. For a few seconds they were practically baby bones again, Papyrus crying over something silly someone had said and Sans preparing a response about how great his brother was and how he had nothing to be afraid of.

    “... you were strong enough to try,” Sans rasped, “That’s stronger than I was for a very, very long time.”

    Papyrus only shook his head in reply, his skull knocking gently against Sans’ own.

    “Heh… I’m actually kind of surprised,” Sans mused to himself, “I thought… you’d hate me.”

    Papyrus gave a distraught laugh, “HATE YOU? FOR WHAT?”

    “For forcing you through that,” Sans listed, his gaze distant, “For… killing that kid. For everything in that stupid journal. For giving up. You know… just… everything.”

    “HEH… EVEN IF I COULD HATE YOU FOR THAT, I WOULDN’T,” there was a bitter smile in Papyrus’ voice as he spoke, “YOU HATE YOURSELF QUITE ENOUGH FOR THOSE THINGS. DEFINITELY MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE WOULD.”

    Sans shrugged. He wasn’t wrong.

    “YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK?”

    “What?”

    “... I THINK EVEN WHEN THE TIMELINE CHANGED… YOU NEVER LEFT THE JUDGEMENT HALL.”

    “What makes you say that?”

    “I THOUGHT ABOUT IT FOR A WHILE,” Papyrus continued quietly, his voice tired, “AND WELL, ALL THROUGH YOUR JOURNAL YOU TALKED ABOUT HOW CHARA DESERVED WHAT THEY GOT. YOU JUDGED THEM, AND DECIDED THEY WOULD ALWAYS DESERVE TO DIE. AND THEN BECAUSE YOU MADE THAT DECISION, YOU JUDGED YOURSELF THE SAME WAY.”

    Sans’ gaze sunk to the floor.

    “CHARA DOESN’T DESERVE TO LIVE. DOESN’T DESERVE TO BE HAPPY. DOESN’T DESERVE TO BE GIVEN A SECOND CHANCE, OR MERCY. BUT YOU’RE NO DIFFERENT THAN CHARA. SO YOU DESERVE ALL THE SAME THINGS. SO YOU GAVE UP, JUST LIKE CHARA DID.”

    Sans blinked at the ground between his slippers, feeling a familiar pressure well up behind his eye sockets.

    “CHARA GAVE UP ON GOING BACK. ON CHANGING THE MESS THEY’D MADE. AND YOU GAVE UP ON EVER SURVIVING A RESET.”

    Sans huffed out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His chest felt tight.

    “EVEN AFTER THE RESETS CHANGED YOU DECIDED CHARA SHOULD DIE LONG BEFORE THEY WERE PAST THE POINT OF NO RETURN.”

    Papyrus pulled Sans closer, and Sans felt guilty for it. Why. If his brother knew all of this, why even bother still giving him comfort? Why bother try saving him, making him continue through the shattered timeline they were stuck in. _Why?_

    “BUT THAT’S NOT YOUR JOB ANY MORE.”

    Sans gave a humorless laugh, “Oh really?”

    “YOU DON’T MEET CHARA IN THE JUDGEMENT HALL ANYMORE SANS,” Papyrus’ voice was tired, exhausted even. Sans could feel his weight slumping further onto his own shoulders, as if the conversation itself were sapping away all of his brother’s energy.

    “THAT’S MY JOB NOW,” his voice was so uncharacteristically soft, but the tearful quiver from earlier was slowly being overtaken by an assuredness that Sans knew his brother for, “I’M THE ONE WHO GET’S TO LOOK AT YOU AND DECIDE IF YOU’RE BEYOND SAVING. JUST LIKE CHARA.”

    A weird mix between a grimace and a smile writhed its way across Sans’ teeth. He knew what his brother was going to say before he even said it, and his soul dropped into where is stomach should be. A few tears finally broke free of his eye sockets and wormed their way down his face.

    “I WILL ALWAYS SPARE YOU BOTH, SANS,” Papyrus sighed, “NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO. YOU WILL NEVER, _EVER_ DO ANYTHING THAT MAKES YOU NOT WORTH SAVING.”

    If it were possible, Papyrus hugged Sans tighter, as if afraid he would bolt or shatter or both.

    “YOU’RE MY BROTHER SANS. I’LL NEVER HATE YOU. PLEASE. I’M BEGGING YOU.”

    Sans sobbed.

    “DON’T GIVE UP HOPE YET.”

    Sans gripped his brother’s shirt in his fists and buried his face in his ribcage. He sat there like that, trembling, crying silently. Relief washed over him in waves, beating back the bitterness in his soul even if only for a moment. He let himself be comforted. Let himself listen to what Papyrus said and actually believe it. He knew, he _knew_  that as soon as he was left to his own devices his disposition would shatter like glass. He knew his hope was even more fragile than his soul. But as long as Papyrus was there to remind him there was something worth living for then maybe…!

    Suddenly Papyrus went rigid beside him, his head snapping around to glare at the trap he’d set. Sans choked on a sob and followed his gaze, trying desperately to still his own shuddering breathing. Sans heard nothing, saw nothing. He looked up at his brother, his eyes asking a silent question and Papyrus was to preoccupied to notice. He glared sternly forward, body alert and eyes searching.

    A peal of laughter, dangerously close, startled both of them. Sans gave a sharp cry as Flowey emerged from the ground inches away from Papyrus’ knee.

    “ _Found_ you!” he laughed as the two skeletons scrambled apart and staggered to their feet, “Might wanna try to be a little less pathetic there next time, _boneheads_.”

    “THIS WAY!” Papyrus shouted, taking off down the path. Sans hesitated a second, only belatedly realized he’d summoned magic in his panic. He tore off after his brother, only slowing enough to make sure his feet never landed in the trap Papyrus had set.

    “Hahaha! Run all you want,” Flowey piped after them in his sickly sweet voice, vines exploding out from his base to chase them down the path, “You won’t be getting away so easily _this_ time at least!”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Flowey knows something we don't...   
> And we take a long walk off a very short pier.

 It was all Sans could do to keep up with Papyrus, his smaller legs working twice as much to match his brother’s effortless strides. Man if he wouldn’t kill for a working shortcut right about now. Though he supposed even those would be a bit useless with Flowey breathing down their necks as he was. The flower lashed out at them, curling vines snapping at their feet and driving them forward. They were just a few steps ahead of him, but Sans had no idea how long that would last.

    “Papyrus!” Sans panted as he and his brother skirted around a blind corner, “Where are we going?”

    “NO IDEA!” came the rushed reply, “I JUST KNOW WE’RE HEADED FOR - SANS LOOK OUT!”

    Sans heard more than saw the vine coming, the cracking of brittle plant matter spiraling towards his side. Sans leaped, tumbling over the hit before it landed. He landed unsteadily on his feet before dashing off, grimacing at the close call. Their escape was quickly turning into a gauntlet as roots and vines tore themselves free of the ground and walls. Sans ducked and dived, pitching out of the way of attack after attack with inches to spare - all the while grinding his teeth and spurring himself faster after his brother.

    Those fights with Chara were good for one thing at least - Sans could dodge just about anything Flowey threw at him.

    But he wasn’t stupid. He had the stamina of a toddler and the grace of a fish out of water. He couldn’t keep this up for long. And with every jolt and stumble he aggravated the crack in his chest, setting his bones to aching. Sans focused on his brother, keeping his stride as long as he could and his feet moving quickly. He just had to keep up with Papyrus. He _refused_ to be separated again.

    A vine exploded out of the wall just ahead of Sans, sending grit and pieces of the wall flying. Sans shielded his face with an arm and let himself fall backwards, sliding beneath the thorny appendage as it slashed its way above him. He staggered to his feet, wincing at the pain the movement caused him before jogging off again. Papyrus glanced back at him and slowed, pausing just a step so Sans could catch up to him, and then falling in step beside him as best he could.

    “COME ON, WE CAN MAKE IT,” Papyrus huffed encouragingly, “JUST A LITTLE FARTHER.”

    Sans let out a hoarse laugh through his teeth, “You kidding? I could do this all day!”

    They rounded a corner, hesitating as they were met with a fork in the road. And explosion of vines through one side made the choice for them, and they were off again.

    “Ya know,” Sans grunted, “Assuming ‘all day’ is just a few more minutes, and the night is a little less murdery.”

    Papyrus grinned and shook his head, “I’M SURPRISED YOU CAN RUN AT ALL, LAZYBONES.”

    “Sure as hell ain’t easy!” Sans nearly ran into his brother as he dodged another root. He could feel sweat start to bead against the back of his skull. The pangs in his chest were slowly meshing together into a constant ache. This was not going to end well.

    They turned another corner, dashing down the only passage not choked with vines. The hallway opened up a bit, though Sans could see the walls crawling with vines and roots writhing just beneath the surface.

    “Where are we?” Sans panted. He could feel himself slowing.

    “NOT SURE.” Papyrus’s brow furrowed, “IT’S A MAIN ROAD THOUGH. I BET WE’RE GETTING CLOSE TO THE BRIDGE.”

    A root stabbed towards Sans’ chest and he barely dodged it, wincing as it scarred a new hole in his hoodie, tearing the shoulder. He was very, _very_ lucky it hadn’t grazed across bone. Sans was getting tired. He took a step and tripped, letting out a startled yelp as he fell. Papyrus skid to a halt, eye sockets wide and his mouth opened in a startled shout. And suddenly Sans was yanked backward, a root around his ankle dragging him back the way they’d run.

    “SANS!”

    Sans screamed, fingerbones clawing at the ground in a panic. He needed something, _anything_ to hold on to. Anything to stop him. The earth slipped through his hands and he kept sliding, he didn’t even slow down. Hell, he probably went faster. Panic choked his throat and took his scream with it. And then suddenly he was stopping, that sickly sweet cackle bouncing in the air above him like a broken wind chime. Sans turned onto his back, grimacing up at Flowey. The little freak had risen up on his stem, twisting upwards and around like a snake. His mouth stretched in a tight, sharp-toothed grin.

    “Well hey there, smiley trash bag!” Flowey giggled, writhing on his stem with glee, “Long time no see, huh? You know, you’re getting to be quite the nuisance.”

    Sans gave a nervous laugh, his grin wide and terrified. For the life of him he couldn’t think of anything to say, forced into a speechless stupor from fear and shock. Some distant thought in the back of his head told him he’d have the perfect comeback later, hours from now when it didn’t even matter anymore - assuming he was alive that long.

    “And you know, it really is a pain,” Flowey purred, “Normally I’d just kill you. It just makes me _that angry_ you know? You keep screwing up my perfectly good timeline.”

    Flowey gave a pouty sigh, “But that’d just screw it up more. How sad. I’ll just have to settle for watching Chara do all the heavy lifting.”

    His grin twitched, predatory eyes flicking up just in time catch a hard hit to the face. Flowey’s long stem went flying back, yanking at the spot where it met the ground and nearly uprooting before toppling over. Sans wasted no time in tearing the root that had dragged him away from his ankle. Papyrus knelt beside him, a bone attack clenched tightly in his shaking fist.

    “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!”

    “Y-yeah,” Sans stammered as he staggered to his feet. A dark chuckle vibrated the world around them. Flowey’s vines, stunned for a moment, began writhing to life again. The two brothers stood rigidly beside each other. Sans could feel his chest begin tightening in panic.

    “CAN YOU RUN?” Papyrus asked quickly, taking a step closer to his brother.

    “Heh, honestly? Probably not.”

    “ALRIGHT THEN.”

    Sans let out a yelp as Papyrus suddenly scooped him up.

    “GET ON MY BACK.”

    Sans finagled his way onto Papyrus’ back and buried his hands in his scarf. Papyrus paused a second to make sure Sans was secure, wrapping his arms around his brother’s legs before dashing off. Without having to worry about leaving Sans behind, Papyrus bound forward twice as fast as before, his footsteps carrying them down two more halls before Flowey’s attacks began again.

    This time the attacks came back with a vengeance, multiple roots and vines shooting from all sides at once. Papyrus batted two away with the attack still in his hand, wincing as a spray of sap spattered up his arm. Sans summoned a hedge of attacks to their side, cleaving through a handful more of the twisting roots and vines before they could grab at his brother’s legs. Somewhere down the hall, Flowey screeched.

    “Well if you don’t like it, keep your shit to yourself!” Sans spat over his shoulder.

    “SANS! I WOULD APPRECIATE IT GREATLY IF YOU WOULD WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE!”

    “Hey you pay attention to your legs!” Sans grunted, “I’ll take care of our _bud_ dy however I want!”

    Papyrus groaned, but in spite of their situation he managed a grin.

    “KEEP IT PG-13.”

    “Shit is perfectly acceptable for a 13 audience!” Sans tutted with an exhausted scoff, “Now if I said fu-”

    Papyrus took a running leap over another root as it yanked itself free from the ground, cutting Sans off as the smaller skeleton clung onto his brother for dear life. He threw up a hedge of bones, glittering blue, stinging more vines as they swung towards the pair from the ceiling. Papyrus rounded another corner and skidded to a halt, greeted by a fork in the road. He dashed down the only path he could - the sight of the writhing, thorny growths that jutted from the ground and walls in the other killing all thought of trying the second route. A scowl worked its way across Sans’ face.

    “I get the feeling our friend back there is herding us somewhere,” Sans growled, summoning attacks to his side to prepare for the next wave he’d have to parry. As if to confirm his suspicions, an impossibly thick wall of thorns wove together down the tunnel in front of them, blocking the way and forcing Papyrus to turn down the nearest hallway. It spat them out on a main road, the lights here brighter and the path dotted with echo flowers. Ahead, the largest bridgework in Waterfall sprawled its way out over an abyss before them, mirrored with identical bridgework beneath it. Once upon a happier reset, Undyne would have patrolled there. Once upon a happier reset, it would be her dealing with Flowey instead of Sans and Papyrus.

    Sans leaned back as far as he dared, one hand clinging to his brother’s shoulder while the other waited to assist him in summoning attacks. Flowey’s tendrils still wormed their way along the walls beside them, sometimes breaching the rock and crackling through the gravel at Papyrus’ feet. The attacks however, abruptly stopped. Now the vines just writhed threateningly, imposing and ready. Without the attacks prompting him faster, Papyrus slowed to a halt. He stopped just short of the sprawling bridgework, casting a glance back in the menacing flower’s direction. Sans took the moment to let his attacks drop, heaving a sigh as fatigue settled into his bones. The hand that clung to Papyrus shook.

    “Please tell me that doesn’t happen again,” Sans groaned, “I don’t know how much more of that I can do.”

    “YOU AND ME BOTH,” Papyrus huffed, setting Sans down on his own two feet.

    Flowey suddenly popped out of the ground at their feet, causing the brothers to jump back in surprise. Sans stumbled onto the bridgework with a yelp, Papyrus stepping protectively in front of him.

    “ALRIGHT YOU’VE HAD YOUR FUN,” Papyrus said challengingly, though Sans could hear the exhaustion in his voice, “WHAT’S ALL THIS ABOUT, FLOWEY?”

    The little flower let out a sinister laugh - Sans wondered how that much evil could be housed in such a tiny body. He glanced around at the cavern walls and floor, taking another hesitant step back when he noticed parts of them still shifted. Okay, so maybe Flowey wasn’t as small as he seemed to be.

    “Oh c’mon Papyrus!” the flower said cheerfully, “Why be so serious just because your brother’s around? I thought we were friends!”

    “FRIENDS DON’T HELP KILL THEIR FRIENDS’ BROTHERS DURING TIMELINE SHENANIGANS,” Papyrus said guardedly, and Sans had to smirk.

    Flowey let out a pleasant burst of laughter, almost childlike, “Well I mean, it’s not like I actually killed him or anything. Not like I’d really have to you know. I mean, between you abandoning him and Chara swinging their knife around, no one really has to do anything to turn the smiley trash bag into a smiley little pile of dust, huh?”

    Flowey raised up higher on his stem, yanking more of himself free from the ground and twisting about until he towered over Papyrus. The two brothers took a few more steps back away from him. Sans tried not to look as intimidated as he felt, his smile clung to his face nervously.

    He sensed more than heard something moving behind him and sidestepped out of the way, watching in muted surprise as a knife blade carved up the air where he'd just been standing. He sidestepped once more, twice and deflected the blade once with a summoned attack. Then his foot met the edge of the bridge and Sans nearly toppled over the side, flailing his arms for balance. Chara rushed him, knife bared and mouth set in a grim line - before suddenly being whisked off their feet and tossed backwards, their soul pinging blue.

    Sans heaved a sigh of relief as his brother stepped beside him, the blue aura that had wrapped around his hand already fading as he released his grip on Chara’s soul.

    “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” he sounded exhausted, and Sans felt the same. He felt his soul sink in his chest. They couldn’t fight Flowey and Chara both. It was too much all at once. Especially after all the energy they’d already used just trying to keep away fro Flowey. Sans was shaking, his smile a twisted mockery that was more an enervated grimace than anything else. He stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets and fixed his eyes on Chara.

    “Don’t mean to be grim here,” Sans said quietly, “But unless you have a plan I don’t know about, I don’t think we’re getting out of this one without a fight.”

    For what it was worth, Flowey didn’t seem to be  threat… yet. He just bobbed back and forth on his distended stem, that pitiless grin slashing his face in half. But Sans knew as soon as Chara attacked again, those vine of his would rear themselves again and keep Papyrus and him pinned. They wouldn’t be able to escape. But still… What Flowey had said earlier was resonating in the back of Sans’ skull. It was… important. A puzzle piece starting to slide into place somewhere.

     _“Normally I’d just kill you…”_

    Chara took a step forward and both brother’s tensed. Sans could feel his own magic begin flaring to life, though he grimaced from the strain of it.

     _“You keep screwing up my perfectly good timeline.”_

    The ground around Flowey’s base was writhing, his grin twitching a little closer to manic. Papyrus’ hand rested gently on Sans’ shoulder.

    “DO YOU TRUST ME?”

    “With my life bro.”

    “YOU’RE BETTER AT BLUE THAN I AM.”

    Chara glanced between the two exhausted brothers, scowling. Probably wondering what they were whispering about. They hesitated just a moment too long.

    “PIN FLOWEY.”

    The minute Sans moved his hand, Chara sprang forward. They grimaced, waiting for the feeling that came from having their soul pinned - subtle surprise dancing across their features when the _ping_ that followed sent Flowey crumpling to the ground. Papyrus wrapped an arm around Sans’ waist. His breath caught in his throat as his brother yanked them both backwards and over the side of the bridgework, and the freefell into the abyss below.

    And Sans clenched his fist as tightly as he could and kept Flowey pinned until the distance alone snapped his hold away. He didn’t scream. He felt as though his soul had leaped into his throat, strangling out any noise he could muster. He barely even thought. He just felt the wind, the fear, the foreboding. He waited for the crash that would splinter him into dust.

    Papyrus shoved Sans away, and only then did Sans let out the barest of yelps in surprise. The brothers’ eyes met, and suddenly Sans’ soul was glowing blue and his fall came to a jittering stop even though Papyrus’ kept going. There was a splash below him, Papyrus’ magic abruptly cut off.

    Sans hit the water much gentler than his brother did, which was probably Papyrus’ plan from the start. But he didn’t feel relieved. All he felt was _panic_. Sans kicked and clawed, scrambling for the surface of the water, and it only receded away from his flailing arms. The water yielded and broke through every gap and hole in his body. He had no flesh, nothing buoyant on him. Practically speaking, he couldn’t even hold his breath and pray the air he’d caught would help him float - because the reality was he only breathed for the feeling. Air meant nothing.

    So instead Sans sank, and struggled, and sank further. His panic mounted as darkness closed in, the further he went the more crushingly black everything became. His soul shuddered in his chest and he gasped, but only the crushing, suffocating feeling of water answered him. He felt like he was dying. He _should_ be dying. He wanted to cry, to scream. He could do nothing. His chest heaved and his soul shivered and he sank, his hands finally abandoning their desperate scrabble for the surface to instead grip and seize at his own neck bones.

    That suffocating feeling. He couldn’t get it to stop.

     _I’m going to die._

    His whole body shuddered. Why this? Why did it have to be water? He would have preferred anything else in the world to this.

     _I’m going to die._

    The pressure around him was building; it made his soul feel sick. He would have rather splintered to pieces against the ground. Let Chara slice him to bits. Flowey tear him apart.

     _I’m going to die._

    Was he too deep? Would he keep sinking until the pressure just snapped him to pieces? Wasn’t that something that could happen in water? Where was Papyrus? Was he drowning as well? Could they even drown without lungs?

    The painful jerking of his soul came to a sudden halt, his ragged gasping abruptly slowing. Everything Sans saw faded to black. Everything… stopped.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a skeleton tries to swim and the world is much too dark for anyone to enjoy living.

 Sans didn’t know when he regained consciousness. One moment there was nothing, and then slowly he was realizing that ‘nothing’ was actually ‘something’. And that something wasn’t dead, though it felt like it. That something wasn’t dying, though he wished it was. That something wasn’t breathing, though he could feel his ribcage dragging in the rhythmic habit of breath.

    That something was very dark. So dark there was no difference between seeing and seeing nothing. That something was heavy, heavy enough to both crush him downwards and yet still suspend him. That something was cold. So cold it worked its way into every bone and made his soul feel somewhat numb and fragile.

    If Sans didn’t know any better, he’d say this was what death felt like. If he hadn’t felt himself splinter to dust before, he’d tell someone this was what being dusted was like. Smothered in ink, cold to your soul, dark.

    Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, he _did_ in fact know better.

     _You. Are. A. Skeleton._

    Sans sucked in a deep breath, or what would have to do for breathing at least. His body wretched and gagged against it, his soul gave a hitch.

     _You. Have. No. Lungs._

    This time he breathed deeper, focusing on the strained push and pull in his ribcage. He clenched a fist on the tattered fragments on his shirt, clutching it tight and feeling his own breathing.  

     _In. Stop. Out. Stop._

     _You sank to the bottom._

     _In. Stop. Out. Stop._

     _You can’t swim._

     _In. Stop. Out. S-stop..._

     _Don’t panic._

     _I-in. In…!_

     _I said, don’t panic._

     _Out. Stop. Stop. In?_

     _You can’t drown._

     _In. Stop. Out. Stop._

     _But you know what you can do?_

     _In…? Stop…?_

     _You can panic until your soul shatters. That’s a thing._

     _I-in. S-stop. Out. Sto-op._

     _Best joke ever - literally scared to death._

     _I-in… Stop. Stop._

     _Breathe._

     _In. .. Stop. … .. Out… St… op._

     _Breathe._

     _In. Stop._

     _Out. Stop._

    Sans kicked a leg out experimentally. He flinched when it brushed against gravel. He felt the water move.

     _There is nothing in the water._

     _Except you._

     _Don’t panic._

    He blinked in every direction, seeing nothing. He saw… _nothing_. His whole being shuddered.

     _Don’t panic._

     _If you panic. You will die._

    Sans covered his eye sockets, feeling more comfort in forcing his eyes closed than keeping them open and seeing nothing. He paused again, forcing himself through another slow, agonizing set of breathing exercises. He still felt suffocated. His body knew he shouldn’t be breathing in anything so heavy as water. Not because he _couldn’t_ , but because it wasn’t _natural_. It hurt. It felt _wrong_.

    But he did notice. The more he breathed. The easier it got.

    Like getting used to a swollen throat while sick with the flu.

    It was wrong. But it was liveable.

    He stretched out again, the gravel bottom closer than it was before. Good. He was still sinking. Slowly. Maybe he could walk.

     _In. Stop._

     _Take your hands away from your eyes._

     _Out. Stop._

     _Magic._

     _Magic glows._

    Sans stretched a shaking hand outward, took a difficult breath, and summoned an attack. A bone, shimmering blue and glowing raggedly materialized in front of him. His world was smothered in blue. Murky blue. Silt and random particles caught in the light, refracting for a second before the hesitant current dragged them away. The light almost seemed to be dragged with it, a hypnotizing illusion that gave Sans the sensation of movement even when he knew he was still. It was dizzying. Terrifying.

     _In. Stop. Out. Stop._

     _You can’t see the shore anywhere._

     _I-in. Stop. O-out. Stop._

     _This is fine._

     _In. Stop. Out. Stop._

     _You need to find the shore._

     _What about Papyrus?_

    Sans cast his gaze around, straining to see from the little light he had. He couldn’t see far, maybe a handful of feet before everything faded to black. Bits of  trash shifted lazily at his feet, buried in the sediment and disappearing into the haze that stretched around him. It was ghostly, otherworldly to look at. Sans took a moment to glance up, glaring for a while before finally decided what he thought was light far about him probably wasn’t.

     _Magic._

    Sans sighed out a breath, steeling himself before letting the attack disappear. Smothering darkness overtook him.

     _This is okay._

     _Find your brother._

    Sans cast his magic as far as it would go, eyes closed and hand held out expectantly. Waiting for the tug as his magic caught something. Waiting for the feeling that came when a part of his soul gripped someone else’s. Waiting for… anything. Sans’ soul started to flutter.

     _I can’t find him._

     _I can’t find him._

     _I can’t -_

     _Don’t. Panic._

    Sans let his magic shrivel away abruptly, hands flying to hold his chest and feel his breathing.

     _In-n-nStOut_

     _You passed out_

     _In.StStop.Out.t.t.Stop._

     _He’s probably already out of the water._

     _In.Stop..In.Out.Stop._

     _You need to find him._

     _In.Stop._

     _Magic._

    Sans threw his fist out, summoning attacks from the ground in a line out from where he stood. For as far as he could reach he summoned them, until the gloom in front of him obscured them into nothing but pinpricks.

     _Waterfalls’ rivers aren’t that wide. You’re facing the wrong direction._

    He turned what he assumed to be ninety degrees from where he stood and shot out another line, equally far. A shudder made its way into his soul when it hit something other than gravelly sand. Sans planted his foot on the ground as best he could, toes curling in the silt - when had he lost his slippers? He felt like he should know that. He ignored it for now.

    Sans walked. Slowly. Pushing against the weight of the water and the fatigue in his soul. His clothes dragged behind him in the water and he wondered faintly if he should take them off just to move faster. Eventually he decided to ignore that as well. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

     _Breathe. Walk._

     _Step. In. Step. Stop. Step. Out. Step. Stop._

    His shoulders slouched, his eyes closed halfway. He focused every ounce of his being on the glowing path he’d made for himself. Every effort went to keeping the attacks there and sloughing through the murk he was stuck in.

     _Almost there. Almost there._

     _Papyrus told you to trust him._

     _He had a plan._

     _Almost there._

    The last glowing attack had shoved itself in a shelf in the water. Sans craned his neck back, watching as the steep side vanished somewhere above him. He let the previous attacks drop, choking on what should have been a sigh of relief. But not yet. He wasn’t done yet. His magic gave a pull, his soul fluttered a bit. A glowing bone emerged from the side of the wall. He stepped gently onto it, a hand braced on the wall for balance. Another attack, another step. Another attack, another step.

     _Almost there. Almost there._

    His breathing quickened, his teeth clenched. The climb was tiring, pushing up against water and exhaustion. Forcing down hopeless, lost thoughts about his brother, about how long he’d been unconscious. About Flowey and Chara finding him. About how the silt in the water could be dust for all he knew, shimmering leftovers of monsters who should’ve had a chance to be happy. How some of that dust might belong to Papyrus.

     _Almost there. Almost there._

    Sans’ hands broke the water’s surface, reaching up to the grab the ledge before he could summon another attack to step on. In his haste he almost fell, a split second of panic gripping his soul as his foot slipped. But his hold was a good one, and with shaking arms he hauled himself out of the water, gasping in a deep breath of beautiful, wonderful, _normal_ air. He lay there, gasping like fish, too exhausted and relieved to drag his feet out of the water. Just basking in the fact that he was _free_.

     _Find your brother_.

    Sans groaned and hauled himself onto his feet, staggering a bit under the weight of his soaked clothing. He turned, looking all around him for signs anyone had been through. Trash and odds and ends from the human world lay scattered about - he was near the dump but not quite there yet. He supposed it was probably further downriver. The ground here was hard, more muddy stone than gravel or silt. He shuffled a foot, leaving only the faintest mark. Finding footprints here was probably a no.

    “Papyrus?” Sans called, his voice echoing across hidden echo flowers, skittering over stones and distorting across the water as it went. He waited with bated breath, hearing nothing. His stomach turned in dread and fear.

    “Papryrus!” Sans called louder, than again, nearly screaming.

    “Papyrus are you out there?!”

    Sans waited, his soul beginning to beat frantically in his chest.

     _Don’t panic._

     _Papyrus is gone._

     _No he’s not._

     _Papyrus is dead._

     _He can’t be._

     _He’s dead!_

    “Papyrus! Bro can you hear me?!” Sans called, turning to walk in the direction he figured the current was going. He could’ve been pushed downstream right? Or maybe he hadn’t figured out how to get out of the water or…? Or he’d hit the water too hard and it’d snapped away his HP in a breath and his dust was lost in the water somewhere.

    “Papyrus! Please!” Sans’ voice cracked, hopelessness and panic digging cold claws into his soul. His pace quickened to as close to a run as he could manage, stumbling over loose debris. He cast around with his magic, reaching in every direction as far as he could manage, feeling for a soul. His _brother’s_ soul. Searching for a single flash of red from his scarf or the white of bone against his dark surroundings. Pausing to listen for an answer that never echoed back to him. Had he gone the wrong way? Should he have stayed where he was? Did it even matter?

    “Papyrus!” Sans screamed, “Papyrus answer me _please!_ Papyrus!”

    He clutched at the sides of his skull with trembling, frantic hands, gasping in breaths as soon as he breathed them out. His chest felt tight, _painfully_ tight. A sob built pressure under his ribs and he gulped it down.

    “No no no. Nononono,” he whined, “No this can’t happen this can’t happen now. I can’t do this.”

    Sans screamed again, his voice shivering in desperation, “ _I can’t do this without you Papyrus I can’t do it I can’t!”_

    He reached out one last time, pushing any boundary he could ever set for himself for how far his magic could go. How far he could feel around him before he just couldn’t reach anymore. Standing on proverbial tiptoes, the air itself shuddering in expectation. Sans felt dizzy, his breath too short, but he kept stretching. Reaching and casting about until he couldn’t hold the magic anymore and it snapped itself off, the potential in the air dropping and fading away. Sans crumpled to the ground with it, curling in on himself exhaustedly, hugging his own shivering body.

    “No no no,” he muttered to himself, jaw set tight in a painful grimace, “No please no. Not again no. No no _no_.”

    Sans closed his eyes, gasping exhaustedly, “You know what? F-fine.”

    Some weird mix between a laugh and a sob jerked his aching chest, “F-f-fine. I d-don’t care. I’m s-so… _done_ with this mess.”

    He slammed a fist into the ground weakly, his grimace melting into a ragged smile.

    “I’m just… t-tired, okay?”

    Who was he talking to? Why bother talking at all?

    He should be looking for Papyrus. He should be moving. He should be doing _something_.

    “I’m so tired,” was that really his voice, so weak and pathetic that it hardly wobbled above a whisper, “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

    He should be focusing on his breathing. Standing up and counting steps.

     _He should be looking for his brother_.

    “I c-can’t handle it. I can’t handle thinking this might pan out when I _know_ it’s all going to get worse.”

    Sans turned over to lie on his back, resting an arm over his eyes tiredly.

    “We couldn’t even have an hour of peace.”

     _You need to move_.

     _Why bother?_

     _He could still be alive._

     _There’s no way he survived the fall._

     _He’s stronger than you are. He could’ve made it._

    Sans couldn’t find the will to move. Or maybe he was just too exhausted. Maybe he’d finally run out of energy. Maybe he’d used the last of what he’d had on that reach with his magic that he shouldn’t have tried. Maybe that was just a poor excuse to give up.

    “... goddamn it…”

    Sans closed his eyes and sighed out a long breath. That was a bright side at least. He wasn’t breathing water anymore. That made things easier. Made _breathing_ easier, anyway. Nothing else was easier.

     _His magic stopped as soon as he hit the water._

     _He said so himself, he doesn’t use blue as well as you do._

     _Or he died on impact._

     _You were just too far away for him to keep ahold of_

     _Or he’s dead_

    Sans gave a pathetic whine. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted _so badly_ to fall asleep and wake up when everything had fixed itself and he didn’t have to worry about anything anymore. But that would never happen. _Ever_.

    Sans argued with himself until he fell asleep, his mind chasing itself in circles on what might have happened and why he couldn’t find Papyrus. Maybe his brother was looking for him. Maybe he was just as worried and just as tired. Maybe he’d collapsed on the path somewhere just like Sans had and was wondering where his brother was and if he was still alive.

Maybe when he woke up, he’d be back in his bed in Snowdin and Papyrus would be waking him up for sentry duty.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Flowey is more of a sadistic bastard than even the writer took him for!  
> Also jeezums Sans! Whatch yer language!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick disclaimer here ladies and gents!  
> This one will probably make some of you guys uncomfortable, just a heads up! We've never seen anything quite like this in the story before (well, kinda sorta but it wasn't worth mentioning at the time) so uhhh... read wiht caution if you're easily squeamish to charaters in pain? Unless you're an unfazable edgelord like Flowey, in which case more power to ya!

_"_ _PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU…"_

_I don't want to be here anymore._

_"_ _...DON'T GIVE UP HOPE YET."_

_I can't… ah damnit… Papyrus._

Sans slept, but whatever internal clock he had told him it hadn't been for long. When he woke up his brother was nowhere to be seen. He hadn't really expected anything different. But he felt… better after the rest. A little less hopeless. A little less desperate, even. But every bit as lost. What was he supposed to _do?_ What even _could_ he do?

Sans slowly shifted, moving to sit up instead of laying on the ground in a piteous stupor like he had before. His limbs were stiff and a bit sluggish to respond, cold. He hugged his knees to his chest, resting his chin against them tiredly, blinking lifelessly at the water. He needed to think. He needed to figure something out. He needed to do _something_.

_Best case scenario: Papyrus is alive. Start there. Think rationally._

Papyrus had told Sans to trust him right? Trust that they'd survive. Trust that the jump didn't have suicidal intentions.

Papyrus was smart enough to know he couldn't swim. And if Sans could think of a way to climb out of the water, his brother certainly could as well. If his ability to make traps didn't show he was clever, Sans didn't know what did. So Papyrus was out of the water and looking for him. Had to be.

In a perfect world, the two brothers would have immediately climbed free of the water and stayed together - but that hadn't happened. Sans had passed out. He didn't know for how long, but he _did_ know Papyrus wouldn't give up looking for him. Papyrus could cover a lot of ground in an hour - a lot more than Sans could. So if Papyrus was still searching for him, running up and down the river somewhere to find him, what could Sans do?

He could wait. As lazy and stupid an idea as it sounded, it was probably the best he could do. Walking any direction held the potential to have him run into his brother sooner or later - but the chances of them walking further apart seemed a lot higher than any where they managed to find each other. But how long should he wait? It was dark here, barely lit by cave crystals high in the ceiling and the occasional glowing echo flower. He had no way of telling time. And past experience with being left alone to mope told him he was better served in even Chara's company.

Sans sighed and buried his face in his knees. Knowing his luck, Chara would find him before Papyrus did. At least Flowey wouldn't have to worry about him being a nuisance anymore.

_"_ _Normally I'd just kill you…"_

That had been such a weird thing to say.

_"_ _...But that'd just screw it up more."_

Screw up his perfectly good timeline. It sounded like Flowey _wanted_ the timeline to end. But then again, if everything Flowey said was true then he didn't have to worry about the timeline ending. What was that he'd said resets ago? About being the prince of the timeline? What did that even mean?

Sans relaxed a bit where he sat, thinking. He tilted his head to the side a bit inquisitively.

_A nuisance that keeps messing up his timelines. Timelines he wants left a certain way every single time. Any change screws things up._

Sans blinked, one more piece falling into place. The riverperson. Hadn't they said something about change? Sans shook his head as if to clear it, sighing. He didn't know enough. He didn't know what to do. He just didn't know.

Sans was suddenly aware that the world around him was whispering. His eye sockets narrowed slightly and he tilted his head to listen. He couldn't… make it out. Sans rose to his feet, glancing around for any source to the sound. The whispering was getting louder. Sans put his hands in his pockets and slowly, hesitantly, made his way towards the noise, walking along the water's edge and scanning the world around him as he went. It was eerie listening to it, jumbled words muttering to themselves over and over again, growing progressively louder and a bit more comprehensible.

Sans glanced to his side, his gaze panning over to the wall of the cavern closest to him. He frowned. In between piles of trash and broken stone, echo flowers grew, chanting and whispering to themselves. They grew a handful of feet away from the path he stood on now, forcing their roots in where the ground was a bit less like stone and a bit more like gravel and mud. Their whispering grew louder and more pronounced, a wave of sound passing from one plant to another. First they echoed only incoherent noise, bordering on static, but as the flowers in front of them got more complete bits from the flowers even before them, they managed to string together their sentences. It was almost like ripples in a pond, but instead of water, it was sound.

The farther Sans walked, the more he could understand what the flowers repeated to themselves as they passed it on from one to another. They hissed together, stumbling and hitching at points whenever something had been lost in transit. Sans shivered and stopped walking.

They were saying his name.

It built and mounted, washing across the echo flowers nearest to him like a wave and then fading out as it passed.

"ss _saannnsssssSannsSAnnsSANS!"_

The skeleton blinked down at the nearest flower, surprise snuffing out the lights in his eyes.

"... Papyrus?"

The flower jabbered back at him quietly. Ahead, Sans could hear the whispering getting louder again, building up another wave of sound, passing on a message. Sans stumbled in the direction it came from. He walked beside the water, forcing down any hopeful feeling he could feel growing in his chest. There was no use in hope right now when everything could go so horribly wrong. He had only one thing on his mind - finding the source before Chara or Flowey did. Another wave of sound built and passed him, this time sounding an awful lot like a question.

_"_ _Where are you?"_

Sans' pace quickened.

_"_ _Sans?"_

_"_ _Where?"_

_"_ _Could he?"_

Sans was sure he could make out Papyrus' voice, but with the way the echo flowers distorted the noise he couldn't be sure. But a light feeling was creeping around inside him and building. His feet moved with purpose. Holy Asgore, he would _kill_ for a working shortcut right about now.

Sans watched as the trash piles around him got bigger, he was getting closer and closer to the dump. The echo flowers grew a little more sparse here, slowly being choked out by the noxious spills that clotted the ground here. But they still grew, and they still whispered. He listened to each wave of sound as it passed, reverberating through the air, latching onto each like a lifeline until they faded.

And then… they stopped.

Sans froze mid-step, frowning as the next wave of sound delayed. He couldn't even hear it's whispered beginnings up ahead. It just. Stopped. And he stopped with it, wondering what had happened, foreboding creeping into his marrow. Without the noise it was so empty, the air ringing with the sound of nothing.

Sans gave a start when hushed voices started up down the path just out of sight.

...They…

…. weren't…

… echo flowers...

Sans darted off the path and toward the nearest pile of junk tall enough to hide him, struggling between the panic of getting away quickly and the absolute need for silence. He just barely managed to check himself before he stomped near an echo flower, suddenly remembering his brother's gentle care near them. He winced, stepped gingerly around it, and then collapsed to the ground behind the battered remains of a refrigerator and whatever had been inside it. He crouched there, hardly daring to breathe, his whole body tense. Ready to run if he had to. The flowers around him chattered conversation as the human and Flowey approached. Sans could just make out the original voices as they got closer.

"... can't believe this. I just _can't_ believe this. Now it's gone and vanished!"

"Flowey, calm down."

"I will _not_ calm down!" came the indignant answer - Sans could just see the twisted little flower's face snarling, "We were _that close_ to finding at least _one_ of those boneheads! And now the voice has just _vanished into thin air?!"_

Chara's voice answered low, monotonous, uncaring, "Probably heard us coming. We're not exactly subtle."

 _Clever use of the plural_ , Sans thought with a bitter smirk. Sans was convinced if Chara had been alone, he'd never have heard them. The kid was pretty quiet when they wanted to be.

Flowey continued unfazed, only ever pausing to sink into the ground and pop back up again near Chara as they walked, "This is all your fault you know. _Not only_ did you spare Sans the first time you met him-"

"That's not what happened."

"-and let him _and_ Papyrus get away in the judgement hall-"

"That one was kinda your fault."

"-but your hesitation on the boardwalk gave them the idea to _jump off!_ Who even does something stupid like that?"

There was a pause. Sans held his breath. Their voices were _so close_. Just a little to his left. There was a scuffle of footsteps. Chara had stopped walking.

"I don't know how Sans got past me the first time," Chara said quietly, tiredly, "I hit him, I know I did."

"He's a one hit point wonder, Chara," Flowey replied, his pleasant tone peppered with something dangerous, "Even a smidge of ill intent and he's dust."

There was a pause.

"Are you implying something?"

Flowey gave a sickly sweet laugh, like broken wind chimes, "I'm not implying anything, friend! I'm just saying you might need a little reminder of why we're out here in the first place. I mean, it must be so exhausting for you. Just a bitter little soul trapped in someone else's body. Don't you miss being _you_ , Chara?"

"... yes."

"And I really can't blame you for feeling weaker. Sometimes that other soul is just gonna assert itself right? Because there's no way you'd ever betray me right? Not after everything we've been through together. After all, I'm your best friend!"

Sans shuddered, a quiver running all the way down to his soul. Was Flowey seriously… manipulating that kid? Sans found himself stamping down the urge to say something, to intervene. He gulped down bitter magic as it churned inside him.

The two started moving again, their voices getting softer with distance.

"And I'll be your best friend forever. No matter how many mistakes you make, or timelines it takes to get to our happy ending, right?"

Chara's voice was so small, Sans could hardly recognize it, "... I don't want to be the bad guy anymore."

Flowey responded, but they were far enough away that Sans couldn't hear it. He could make out the tone of voice though - that honey and tar coated reassurance that held something dangerous underneath it. The pleasant view right before the trap is sprung. The smile right before the knife wound. Sans got to his feet slowly, rubbing the side of his face tiredly.

"... shit…"

" _shit!"_

Sans gaped at the echo flower beside him, his expression quickly morphing from shock to horror as the little thing started repeating the word over and over. Sans grit his teeth to keep from yelling in exasperation. Flowers nearby started echoing the distorted word back.

Sans would've laughed if the situation weren't about to get him killed. The echoes were getting louder, rippling outwards in every direction as more flowers picked it up. What should he do? Run? No way, they'd see him as soon as he was on the path again. Panic started writhing about in his ribcage. The river? Could they follow him down there?

Sans would be cursing his luck out loud if it wouldn't make his situation worse.

"... _got_ to be kidding me. Please do _not_ tell me the smiley trashbag was _just_ here."

In a last ditch moment of desperation, Sans scrambled to the refrigerator he'd been hiding behind. He yanked the door open, wincing from the stench that rolled out, and then clambered in. He held the door shut, eyes closed and breath held. Chara's footsteps tapped quickly across the ground, stopping somewhere close that Sans couldn't pinpoint. He gulped down the knot that was forming where his throat should be. If this wasn't the sickest game of hide-and-seek he'd ever been a part of, he didn't know what was.

Sans listened intensely, wincing with every step Chara took as they started to look around. Sometimes the steps moved closer, and Sans' soul nearly shuddered to a stop. Sometimes they faded away. They were sweeping back and forth, he guessed, checking around piles of garbage in the dark and trying to guess which one was him. Once or twice he heard something shifting and falling.

"Agh! This is so _stupid!"_

Sans bit down on a knuckle, suppressing a startled scream. When had they gotten so close to him? They sounded like they were right beside him. They could be looking over his shoulder.

Flowey laughed, his voice farther away, "Garbage can't be stupid, stupid. It doesn't have a brain."

Sans blinked. Er… what?

"I'm not stupid!" Chara shouted back, shuffling a bit. Something went skittering away - maybe they'd kicked it?

"Hey! Don't _throw_ things at me!" Flowey shouted angrily, and Sans had to hold his breath to cut off a laugh.

"Then don't call me stupid," Chara huffed, his voice moving away from Sans' hiding place, "Ugh it smells like something _died_ over here. I'm _not_ searching through this!"

" _Chara_ ," Sans didn't know Flowey could whine, "This is _important_."

" _You_ dig through the trash pile then!" their angry stomps sounded off their retreat. Flowey called after them. Everything sunk into silence, the echo flowers slowly dying down as they chattered what was left of the two's argument into oblivion. Sans felt like he'd lost a few years off his lifespan. That was _close_.

He counted breaths in his head, patiently waiting to make sure Flowey and Chara were well away from him. After he'd made it to a thousand twice, he finally cracked the door open. Just enough to listen, trying to hear anything past the whispering echo flowers. Nothing. He hesitantly put a foot on the ground and stepped out, pausing to wipe spoiled food off his clothes. He grimaced down at his poor jacket, stained with food and grime and who knew what else. He listened again, heard nothing, and finally stepped free of his hiding place. There was no one in sight.

This time, Sans kept his mouth shut as he walked gently around the echo flower that had nearly killed him. He made his way back to the path, looking down the road both ways to see if anyone was there. Nothing. Only echo flowers. Sans finally heaved a sigh of relief, only now realizing how tense he'd been. He shoved his hands in his pockets shakily, and turned to walk the opposite direction he'd heard their footsteps receding. He walked quickly, glancing behind him every few steps to make sure nobody followed.

He completely missed the flower that bobbed almost maniacally on it's base from where it hid behind a pair of echo flowers. It waited for him to pass before snapping a vine out and wrapping it around his wrist. Sans was yanked off his feet and dragged to the nearest wall, pinned there by his wrist.

"Well hey there friend!" Flowey laughed, raising up on his stem to sit at Sans' eye level, "Now just _where_ did you think _you_ were going?"

Sans grasped for his magic, a glowing blue wrapping around his free hand as he reached out to hold Flowey still. He was abruptly cut off by a pressure on his ribs, pressing down against the crack in his chest. Sans gasped, his hand moving to claw at the root pressed to his chest.

"Nope! You've lost your magic privileges," Flowey said with a patronizing smile.

"O-okay, okay!" Sans stammered painfully, eyes glued to the spot where the vine met his sternum, "No magic! Just… please…!"

Flowey giggled, "What? Does that hurt? How about now?"

Flowey gave the root a brutal twist, wedging it a little further into the wound. Sans screamed, his whole body going rigid as a wave of agony ripped through him, spiralling its way through every rib and shattering across his arms and spine. His soul jittered and shuddered, for a few seconds he thought he might pass out. Slowly, one agonizing breath at a time, the spasm subsided, replaced by an angry ache in his sternum and a tingling sensation in his limbs. Sans blinked dazedly, nausea welling up in his stomach. He let out a low moan, his free hand feebly gripping the root as if that could keep it from moving again. He was dully aware of his own screams echoing around him as the flowers passed them on.

Flowey grinned, "Wow, that was dramatic! That must really hurt huh? Oh you poor thing. I'd feel more sorry for you but, hey, you've had me running in circles for awhile. Ehehe, you'll have to forgive me, but that was _pretty_ cathartic."

Sans found himself devoid of any real comeback to that. He was still staggering from the blow. He'd never felt anything like it before in his life. A thought slowly made it's way into his mind and he managed to tear his gaze away to the path. Flowey chuckled.

"Oh don't worry, Chara's still looking for Papyrus," he said pleasantly, "Though they'll probably come running back when they hear _that_. You know, it's kinda weird actually. All that dusting they've done and hearing people in pain still kinda freaks them out. I don't really care anymore though."

"I n- _nnngh_ -n-noticed," Sans finally managed to stammer past clenched teeth, "What… what do you wa-ah-a _a-aaah!"_

Flowey _twitched_. He didn't even rightly move, he just twitched. And suddenly Sans was gulping down hyperventilated gasps of pain. And each breath jolted him more, an electric touch that made his limbs want to jerk and his soul stop for moments at a time.

"Well that's simple, Sans! Why didn't you ask sooner?" his voice was pleasant, cheerful as if he were simply having a conversation. That nauseous feeling twisted a little bit more in Sans' stomach. He could taste a nasty bile in the back of his mouth. Could you get sick from pain? Sans thought he might be finding out soon.

"I just want you to be honest with me, friend," Flowey continued, his voice lilting into a purr as he dragged his face closer to Sans', "Think you can handle that?"

Flowey twitched his root again when Sans wasn't fast enough in answering.

"Well, _can_ you?" Flowey hissed over him. Sans gagged on a sob, his free hand clamping down tighter on the root in a vain attempt to keep it still.

"Y-y-yes," he breathed frantically, fighting to stammer an answer before Flowey grew impatient again, "Y-yes. I cc _cc-c-can."_

"Good!" Flowey chirped pleasantly, a toothy grin shattering his features, "You know, if I'd known it took something this simple to make you cooporate I would've tried it ages ago. Oh well, the more you know I guess."

Flowey made a shrugging motion, lifting a pair of leaves idly. Sans was too busy trying to breathe to notice. His eyes had once again lowered to stare at the root firmly planted on his ribs.

"Now Sans," Flowey cooed, "Where's your brother?"

A small, painful choking noise wheezed through Sans' constricted throat. Flowey leaned a little more weight on his ribs, he could see the bones starting to bend. Spirals of pain wormed their way out from his wound, curving and cracking outward across his bones.

It took willpower Sans didn't know he had to try and say something useful instead of begging for his life.

"I-i-i d-don't - _tttttsss-s-shit -_ I d-don't know," he wheezed, his quivering voice hardly straining above a whisper, " _Pl_ \- hntsss…! P- _please!"_

Flowey stuck his lip out in a pout and sighed, disappointment dripping off his entire demeanor. Sans shivered, horrified. Flowey didn't believe him.

"Awww Sans," Flowey whined, "Now what did we _just_ say about being honest?"

"Nonono _nonono!_ I'm t-telling the truth I sw-"

Flowey twisted his root again, but unlike the first time when he'd moved in a fast jerk, this time he turned it slowly. And as he moved he added pressure, slowly, inches and seconds or movement. Sans screamed and writhed, only succeeding in making it all feel _worse_. Each yank and jerk his body made wrapped him in agony that threatened to send him pitching into unconsciousness. But he stayed mercilessly awake and coherent. He could feel, _hear_ cracks in his bones from both Flowey and his own rigid flailing. And then he was begging, shrieking in broken sobs and incomprehensible pieces of words. Things that started in his mind as pleas to stop, but shuddered past his teeth as broken cries.

At some point he got sick as well, but he didn't know when or how he'd managed it. Only that his front was spattered with a new and vibrantly colored magical mess.

Flowey finally stopped, waiting patiently for Sans' cries to pitch to a volume that was a little less frantic and desperate. Restraint. That was what he needed right now.

"Awww there there," Flowey purred, releasing some of the pressure, watching with glee as Sans practically collapsed with relief. He probably would have, actually, if Flowey hadn't been holding him up.

"Now, let's try again okay?" Flowey crooned, and Sans flinched away from the sound. He grimaced pathetically, bracing himself for what he knew would be coming.

"Where's your brother?"

Sans took a shaky breath, his voice shuddering past clenched teeth, "I-i… I d-don't… I don't know."

Flowey sighed, head tilting as he rolled his eyes. Sans flinched before Flowey even moved, frantically spitting out words before the inevitable twist that would steal his breath away again.

"P-please d-don't - please I dont' know! W-we got separated! I-i-i haven't seen him s-since we f-f-ffff _ffffffaa-aah_!"

Twisting pressure. Ripping agony. Sans' body couldn't seem to decide between jerking rigid or spasming and curling. His free hand clawed desperately at the root burying itself once again in his chest, scoring useless marks into the hardened surface. The echo flowers chattered his wails back to him a thousand times over.

Flowey sighed, "Jeez, I'm not stupid. We hear your brother's voice pouring through the echo flowers _right_ before you pop up? Come on Sans. You know, I really am getting sick and tired of all this resistance here. Do you have any idea how tedious this is?"

Sans could've laughed. In fact, in between screams and gasps he almost did. Something manic and desperate snapped it's way through him, and suddenly he was grinning.

"K-kill me, _kill me_ g-get it over with!" Sans screeched, his voice cracking weakly. He gagged on a sob, the motion slamming fresh waves of pain through his cracked ribs. He felt himself creeping closer to unconsciousness again, but nearly laughed at the fact that he knew it'd never come. For a second he thought he saw stars. A phantom feeling of pins and needles collapsed across his body.

"Th-that's - _ah! s-shit_ \- w-why you're here, r-right?" he gasped and stumbled his way through the sentence, his voice whining and wincing with every jostle from Flowey, "Go ahead. S-s'not like I c-care. You've d - _nnngh…! -_ d-d-done it all before, rrr-r-right? _"_

Flowey scowled down at him, face twisted in contempt, "Tch, it's not like I couldn't you know. It'd be easy. Just a hard enough push and I'd shatter that little soul of yours to pieces…"

And for a second, Flowey's scowl wavered and he actually thought about it. Sans could see it in his face. That moment of hesitation where killing him and 'getting it over with' sounded like a good idea. A convenient way of getting rid of a nuisance and his frustration in one efficient movement.

Flowey let go, pulling his outstanding roots back under the ground where they belonged. Sans slumped over exhaustedly, body limp and head spinning. His chest ached, throbbing dully to the same timing as his traumatized soul. But it wasn't nearly as bad as before. Sans let out a wounded laugh as he heard Flowey moving away.

"C-can't b-b-bother sc-screwing up y-your p-precious timel-line even m-more?" he giggled painfully, gasping when the laughs sent twinges of pain through his chest again.

Flowey let a strange sort of growl slip past his teeth, "No use making things worse when I don't even know if you're telling me the truth. I mean, I suppose if I fiddled with that little sore spot some more you'd tell me anything."

Sans was once again struck by the horrible, overbearing need to laugh. This time he managed to gulp it down.

"But if your brother _is_ around here," Flowey said smugly, "He's going to hear all that noise you were making and come running. He's such a good brother like that, right?"

Sans blinked, his face an exhausted grimace.

"Actually kinda surprised he hasn't come running to your rescue yet," Flowey shrugged, "Hmm… wonder what that could mean?"

Both of them paused when the echo flowers started acting up again, echoing back strange noises outside of their conversation and what was left of Sans' tortured cries. It was a heavy sound, pounding. The flowers almost didn't know what to make of it, reverberating it through the air in confused taps and thuds. Flowey grinned.

"Ten gold says that's him," he hummed, sinking back into the ground, "Be a good little skeleton and stay here while I go find Chara. And _try_ not to screw anything _else_ up while I'm gone. If that's even possible for you. I'll be back soon."

There was a telltale crackle as his stem sunk it's way back underground, and then silence.

"… f…fff _fffucking sadist_ ," Sans spat quietly after him.

The relief Sans felt couldn't be put into words. He sat there where he'd been left, an emptiness he couldn't describe reaching around to numb his soul. His hands grasped weakly at his chest, checking to make sure he was all there and he hadn't, in fact, cracked apart during Flowey's interrogation. Surprised to find he was still just as whole as before the little bastard had found him. He… didn't want to be here when Flowey got back. But he also couldn't find it in himself to move. The emptiness numbing his soul had turned to work it's way around the rest of his body, shaky exhaustion weaving through marrow and bone and holding him where he sat. He leaned his skull back against the wall he was slumped against, listening to the echo flowers as they grew steadily louder, roaring a thousand footsteps around him before the origin finally came within earshot.

Sans gave a tired chuckle, "T… took you long enough. You missed all the fun."

He blinked his eyes opened and frowned in confusion.

"... Grillby…?"

The fire elemental pulled Sans into his arms, turning just as Papyrus rounded the corner after. They shared a quiet look, Papyrus noticeably more frantic than the bartender was. Sans was too tired to ask what it was about.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally figure out what's going on, and someone prepares to make some fried dandelion.

Sans found himself drifting in and out of consciousness, the warmth radiating from Grillby soothing his very soul into groggy submission. It gave him the illusion of safety, that fuzzy feeling he didn't realize he was capable of feeling anymore. It was bitter and ragged, the ache in his chest a constant reminder that it was merely an illusion and nothing nearly so substantial as actual comfort. But it was there, and for what it was worth, it helped.

He wasn't asked any questions - not yet. Grillby's demanding quiet and the urgency of their surroundings seemed to take care of that. Though from the distraught looks and constant fidgeting, it was obvious Papyrus wanted to know what'd happened. Sans came to the quiet realization that Grillby and Papyrus had probably heard everything that'd happened, every scream and plea passed along by the echo flowers like some warped telephone line. That was when he'd fallen asleep the first time, waking only when he realized Grillby and Papyrus were shifting him around and Grillby was leaving. Papyrus continued carrying him alone, running like his life depended on it - and it probably did. There was a light, bright and burning and a furious heat that swelled over them as they ran. Sans fell asleep again, barely aware of the world hitching over and over.

* * *

"I SHOULDN'T HAVE LEFT. I SHOULD'VE KEPT LOOKING. HOLY ASGORE, WHY DID I STOP LOOKING?!"

"Papyrus, you'd been looking for hours and you only had half your HP. You needed help."

Sans was aware he was laying on something soft. And he was warm. He was loathe to move, every part of him heavy and stiff. He wanted to go back to sleep. Though he supposed he woke up to Papyrus' voice on a normal day, so it should follow that when his brother started talking Sans' body would drag him into wakefulness. Force of habit, and all that nonsense. It was _annoying_.

"IF I HAD JUST KEPT LOOKING… IF I HADN'T… OH GRILLBY WHY DID EVERYTHING TURN OUT SO WRONG?!"

Grillby's voice was quiet but severe, "You need to calm yourself."

"NONE OF THIS SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED," Papyrus was rambling, Sans could hear him pacing in circles, "THIS IS ALL MY FAULT. STUPIDLY BELIEVING I COULD ACTUALLY SETTLE THIS PEACEFULLY."

"Papyrus you've done nothing wrong."

"I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING RIGHT EITHER!"

Sans found himself trying to figure out some pun or joke that he could interject with. His mind was still a little too muddled for it though, and what parts of him that could actually make humor were grappling with the parts of him consumed by the numbing bitterness from earlier. He let out a long sigh, stopping any further conversation between Grillby and Papyrus before it could begin again. Sans blinked his eyes open just as Papyrus reached him.

"SANS? OH THANK HEAVENS! I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE AWAKE," he sighed, the relief on his face punctuating his sentence. Sans didn't even pretend to smile.

"Where are we?" he groaned as Papyrus helped him to sit up. His chest gave an awful, painful twinge at the movement and he clenched a fist on his shirt as if it could help him bear it.

"We are in Snowdin," came Grillby's tired reply, "Though to be honest we should be leaving soon. Your two friends are quite... persistent."

"I think the word you're looking for is determined, actually," Sans corrected quietly, his gaze wandering around the room they were in. He didn't recognize it at all, though if the picture frames hanging up were any indication, it was probably Grillby's home. He'd expected the kitchen to be bigger.

"SANS," Papyrus' worried voice pulled him from his rambling thoughts, "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

Sans blinked at Papyrus, his face blank. Was he alright? What did 'alright' even entail in this situation? That he was breathing and in minimal pain? That he wasn't a mess of dread, anxiety and some skewed up form of apathy? Well, he wasn't screaming in pain at the hands (roots?) of a sadistic flower anymore. That had to count for something.

"I'm… fine…?"

Wow, that did _not_ turn out as confident as he'd wanted it to. Judging by the look on Papyrus' face, it'd actually come out pretty damn pathetic. He looked positively distraught, and he wrung his hands in a vain attempt to keep his nerves in check. A few of his knuckles popped under his rough touch. Sans fought the reflex to grab his hands and stop him.

"How long have I been out?" he prompted, trying to take his brother's mind off any self-destructive track it'd managed to rail itself on, "I mean… I'd assume awhile?"

"I'M HONESTLY… NOT SURE," Papyrus said quietly, looking at Grillby for some sort of guidance. The fire elemental shrugged helplessly, also without a clue.

"WE DIDN'T WANT TO DISTURB YOU UNLESS WE HAD TO."

Sans rubbed the side of his face tiredly, groaning, "Good to know."

He pinched the bridge of his nasal cavity in an effort to clear his foggy head. There was an uncomfortable silence between the three of them. The unanswered questions floating in the room were almost palpable. The air tasted like vinegar and quiet, the silence was sharp. Grillby was the first one to break it, his voice radiating a calm that Sans could hardly recognize. The tone was attempting to reassure him, but Sans found himself uncomfortably callous towards it.

"We thought you'd fallen down, Sans," he said with coolly, "What happened before we found you?"

Sans could feel the sensation to laugh bubbling up under his ribcage again. When had that become his go-to answer to anything painful? Sans blamed Flowey.

"Flowey decided he wanted to chat," Sans snorted a bitter laugh, "But unfortunately I make a terrible conversation partner."

"I… DON'T UNDERSTAND," Papyrus said quietly, his voice watery and emotional, "YOU HAVE ONE HP SANS… WHATEVER HE WAS DOING… IT SHOULD'VE KILLED YOU."

"Nah, we weren't fighting," Sans replied lamely, "He just found my… erm…"

Huh, what even was an appropriate word for it?

"Death wound, I guess."

Both Grilly and Papyrus seemed taken aback.

"YOUR _WHAT?_ "

Sans opened his mouth to speak, his brow furrowing a bit in confusion, before shutting it again. He blinked at Papyrus for a second. Did he never…?

"You're kidding me," Grillby said with a laugh, and both Papyrus and Sans gazed at him in bafflement, "Sans, you seriously _never_ told him?"

"I don't…" Sans started but trailed off when a ghost of a memory hit him, dancing in the back of his mind from sometime resets before now. A memory where he was pacing in circles and Undyne was hurt and Papyrus was late and Sans was… a complete moron.

"I… did… kind of," Sans murmured, "But it was just aches then. I didn't realize… I didn't remember enough."

"WHAT? WHAT IS THIS ABOUT? WHAT AM I MISSING?" Papyrus looked between Sans and Grillby, struggling between nervous and indignant. Sans shrugged, not feeling much like explaining. Instead he lifted his shirt to reveal the crack - now slightly wider and fracturing jaggedly across every rib. Papyrus gave a shocked gasp, taking a step back. Grillby's fire pitched haphazardly, the temperature spiking with his own shock. Huh, so he'd told Grillby about it but never actually shown it off. Interesting.

"WHAT… HOW…?"

Sans dropped his shirt back down again, smoothing it out gingerly and wincing whenever the movement jostled him the wrong way.

"Not entirely sure," Sans answered quietly, "Just… repeated abuse, I guess. We were stuck in a rut for so long, and we always died the exact same way every time. Whenever the kid reset, I guess the timeline just couldn't reset all the way. Couldn't fix itself right. Stuff started staying behind. That's probably why our timeline's got a crack in it too. Kid's doing something at the end of their run that breaks everything - over and over again. Timeline can't heal itself back all the way. So the cracks just kept getting bigger."

Papyrus was fiddling with his knuckles again, a grimace plastered on his features. Grillby's fire was a harsh blue.

"I mean, I figured you wouldn't have figured any of that out G," Sans said with a shrug, "You never fought the kid. But Pap… they dusted you in the same spot every time too."

Sans jerked his thumb across his neck bones in a very obvious motion. Papyrus rubbed the back of his neck vertebrae self consciously.

"I… WELL YES YOUR JOURNAL SAID SOMETHING ABOUT THAT DIDN'T IT? BUT… AS FAR AS I CAN REMEMBER THEY'VE NEVER KILLED ME THAT WAY BEFORE."

Sans blinked, "Seriously?"

"YES," if it were possible, Papyrus looked even more uncomfortable now than he had before, though his fidgeting had stopped, "THEY UHM… IN THE JUDGEMENT HALL… WE UHM."

He gave a nervous laugh, trying to relieve his own tension.

"WE FIGHT UNTIL… I'M EXHAUSTED. THEY GO RIGHT FOR MY SOUL."

Papyrus rubbed at his neck vertebrae again, "I MEAN, MY NECK DOES FEEL SORE SOMETIMES. LIKE I CHIPPED THE BONE ON SOMETHING? BUT IT DOESN'T REALLY HURT LIKE… YOURS DOES."

Sans stared at his brother, confused and thoughtful. He waved Papyrus over, "Let me see."

His brother obeyed, leaning down so Sans could get a look at his neck bones. It took a little finagling with the scarf, but Sans found it - a chip in the vertebrae of Papyrus' neck. But unlike Sans', it wasn't deep nor did it have any smaller fractures cracking out from it's source. The gap was small, the bone around it scarred.

"It's… healing up a little," Sans said quietly to himself. The final piece clicked into place.

_"_ _Change let's them heal."_

That's what the riverperson had said. Sans blinked, he could practically see all the pieces of the discombobulated and warped about puzzle fitting together. Why Flowey held such a grudge against him. Every reset when Flowey and Chara tried to convince him to fight like he always had before. Being a nuisance and "messing up their perfectly good timeline". As long as everything went the same, over and over again, the timeline would break. The resets worked against themselves, carving harms deeper and deeper until they couldn't be fixed anymore.

When things changed and the timeline was left to it's own devices, the resets would start to heal the broken pieces. Fix them back up as if they'd never been touched in the first place. Resetting the world and all the people in it, one tiny piece at a time.

"SANS?"

Sans blinked, recentering himself on his brother and Grillby.

"That's how we'll fix this," he said quietly, "Changing things."

"I don't understand Sans," Grillby's fire sputtered about in confusion, "What are you seeing that we're not?"

"The resets," Sans explained quickly, feeling oddly excited and relieved, "Every time that kid resets and the timeline is different, everything bad that's happened heals up a little. And not just those piddly death resets either. That's not far back enough. We need them to reset the whole timeline."

Papyrus shook his head vehemently, "BUT WE CAN'T! THEY ONLY RESET AFTER THEY KILL ALL THE MONSTERS IN THE UNDERGROUND - ALL THE ONES WHO DON'T EVACUATE OR HIDE, ANYWAY. AND I'M _NOT_ LETTING YOU DIE AGAIN."

"If they reset after they do that we're dust anyway," Sans said, waving a hand dismissively, "They'll break the timeline apart after their reset. No, we need to get them to reset the whole thing before they kill everything. We've got to…"

Sans' train of thought derailed. _Oh_.

"They'll have to spare you," Grillby finished for him, "Which, if recent events can be trusted, will never happen."

"You're right," Sans muttered bitterly, "Especially with Flowey hounding them on."

He was once again met by a pair of confused stares.

"I overheard the two of them talking before…" he gave a shrug, "Chara sounds pretty fed up with the whole 'killing everyone' thing. In fact, this all could be Flowey's idea, really. I just… don't understand why."

Sans looked between Papyrus and Grillby, "Have either of you ever figured that thing out?"

Grillby shook his head, "At this stage? I normally don't intervene. It's uhm… a bit of a risk for me to go traipsing through Waterfall. I know very little about what goes on after the human leaves Snowdin. I… actually don't know who Flowey is."

Sans settled his gaze on Papyrus, who had gone back to fiddling with his knuckles uncomfortably.

"FLOWEY NEVER SPOKE ABOUT HIS PLANS," Papyrus said quietly, "I TRIED BUT I COULD NEVER GET A STRAIGHT ANSWER. I CAN TELL YOU HE'S GOOD AT MANIPULATING PEOPLE THOUGH. I'VE… FALLEN FOR IT BEFORE. BUT I DON'T FEEL LIKE IT'S CRUELTY FOR CRUELTY'S SAKE. SOMETHING IS VERY _WRONG_ WITH HIM."

Papyrus waved his hands as he spoke, as if he could illustrate with them what he couldn't put into words, "IT'S ALMOST AS IF EVERYTHING HE FEELS IS… FAKE? I'VE NEVER SEEN A GENUINE EMOTION. NOT SURPRISE OR ANGER. JUST THIS VERY EXPRESSIVE… EXPRESSION? I DON'T KNOW!"

He stomped a foot on the ground exasperatedly, "IT'S LIKE WATCHING METTATON ON TV. HE'S VERY GOOD AT ACTING, BUT… YOU CAN _TELL_ IT'S ACTING. HE'S NOT BEING CRUEL. HE HAS A GOAL AND HE DOESN'T FEEL SORRY ABOUT WHO IT'S HURTING."

Papyrus laughed bitterly, "OR MAYBE I'M JUST MAKING EXCUSES AGAIN. WHO REALLY KNOWS AT THIS POINT?"

Sans glowered, a bitter taste of angry magic welling up in him. The ache in his chest spoke of cruelty. Hate even. The little sadist had enjoyed every second of what he'd put Sans through. It almost hurt worse to consider a world where that kind of pain had been _pointless_. Just a means to an end. Just there because the little creature had thought it necessary, and had he rethought it, never would have done it in the first place. Emotionless. Unattached. Numb.

"I'M SO SORRY, SANS."

Sans blinked up at his brother, who looked like he was about to fall apart. A confused frown curled across his teeth.

"What for?"

"FOR… EVERYTHING?" Papyrus' voice whined past a nonexistent throat constricted with tears, "I SHOULDN'T HAVE STOPPED YOU IN THE JUDGEMENT HALL. I SHOULDN'T HAVE THROWN US OFF THE BRIDGE. I SHOULDN'T HAVE STOPPED LOOKING WHEN I DID. I… I…"

His shoulders shook in a sob, "YOU SOUNDED SO SCARED AND YOU WERE IN SO MUCH PAIN AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT, SANS."

Sans blinked at his brother, at a loss for the umpteenth time on how to give him comfort.

"AND… AND I'M SORRY I CAN'T… I'M SORRY I KEEP MAKING EXCUSES FOR THEM BOTH. AND I'M SORRY I CAN'T HATE THEM. WHY IS THIS SO HARD? WHAT'S _WRONG_ WITH ME?"

Sans rubbed the back of his head uselessly, at a complete loss for words or comfort. It was hard to tell Papyrus he was wrong about this, that he should still believe the way he did. Especially when Sans didn't believe it himself. He couldn't even forgive himself, after all. In what world could he forgive Flowey or Chara? Or maybe _forgive_ wasn't the right word exactly, but it was something similar. Something a lot like acceptance that Sans couldn't stomach.

Grillby put a hand on Papyrus' shoulder, "Papyrus, you've done nothing wrong. There is nothing _wrong_ with you."

The fire elemental sighed, "Heh… I never thought I'd see the day I'd go through something like this again."

His fire burned a little cooler, a comforting warmth radiating from him. Sans could feel it from where he sat, and he sighed into it. The fire elemental continued.

"You boys… you don't understand these things. You've never had to. But I've fought humans before, killed humans before. Nothing you've done, either of you, is wrong. Kill them, spare them, it makes no difference. There is no right or wrong answer here. There's only what you can live with."

His fire gave a shudder, "You cannot feel guilty for what's happened, either of you. You know what you need to do now. Focus on that."

"HOW?" Papyrus asked desperately, wiping away the handful of tears that had slipped free of his sockets, "THEY WON'T SPARE US. THEY'VE NEVER SPARED US."

"That's the thing though," Sans interjected, his voice small, "They've spared me once."

"BUT THEY HAVEN'T DONE IT SINCE!"

"They've come close though," Sans felt something cold twisting around where his stomach should be, "They've come _so close_. We're… heh."

Sans' hand clenched on the fabric on the chest of his shirt, "We're too much alike. They're just like me Pap. Heh. This is ridiculous."

His grip tightened, his fist shaking, "I don't want to spare 'em Pap. I don't want to talk to them again. I don't want to _see_ them again. I can't do this. I _can't_ do this."

Sans didn't realize until Papyrus had scooped him up into a hug that his whole body had started trembling, his soul jittering erratically in his mounting panic. It took every ounce of energy he had to match his brother's breathing. Grillby stayed wisely silent, waiting for Papyrus to calm his brother down. Sans was suddenly very aware of how exhausted Grillby looked, his fire low and burning in cool reds and oranges. Sans could relate.

Sans pulled away from his brother shakily, sighing out semi-normal breaths, "Sorry… sorry."

"DON'T BE," Papyrus sighed, his own breath shuddering. He managed a shaky smile, "YOU WON'T BE ALONE. OKAY? I'LL BE THERE WITH YOU… NO MATTER WHAT. EVEN IF THAT MEANS…"

He frowned, "EVEN IF THAT MEANS UNTIL THE END."

Sans gave a weak smile, nodding, "Yeah… I guess it… doesn't really matter if we get it wrong at this point, huh?"

"NOT EXACTLY WHAT I WAS GOING FOR," Papyrus said with a half-hearted _nyeh_ of laughter, "BUT IF IT HEARTENS YOU THEN, I SUPPOSE YES."

Sans shook his head, his watery smile still present. It wavered though, as a thought crept into his brain.

"Wait… Flowey's manipulating Chara," he said, slowly frowning, "The last handful of times I've made Chara even hesitate, Flowey's gotten them going again. We won't stand a chance."

"This companion of… Chara's," Grillby spoke up finally, grabbing the brothers' attention, "What manner of creature is he?"

"HE'S A LITTLE GOLDEN FLOWER," Papyrus answered, "HE LOOKS SURPRISINGLY HARMLESS. BUT HE HAS ROOTS AND VINES AND… I THINK BULLET ATTACKS AS WELL. AND HE HAS A WAY OF CONVINCING YOU TO GIVE UP."

Something in the way Papyrus said that last sentence made Sans seethe.

Grillby made a show of straightening the cuffs of his sleeves, "Oh. A plant monster, is it? Well, that doesn't sound so terrifying."

"G…" Sans said warningly.

"You need the child alone," Grillby said firmly, "I can make it so. Besides, I believe he is owed a hearty helping of pain for what he did to you."

Grillby drew himself up, his flame starting to burn a hot white, "And you both forget, I was once in the war. There is very little in this world that I fear anymore, and even less that I haven't reconciled myself with. How long will you need with the human to convince them to stop, do you think?"

"There is no way in hell, G," Sans snapped, "That thing will kill you, old-time boss monster or not. And he'll probably be laughing like a maniac the whole time, the little prick. There's _no way_ I'm letting you do this."

Grillby tilted his head in amusement. Sans could've punched him.

"SANS," Sans snapped his head around to look at his brother, "I… DON'T LIKE THIS IDEA EITHER, HONESTLY. BUT, EARLIER WHILE WE WERE RUNNING…"

He messed with one of his knuckles. This time Sans actually slapped his hand to stop him.

"OW? ANYWAY, WHILE WE WERE ESCAPING, CHARA AND FLOWEY WERE BREATHING DOWN OUR NECKS. WE WOULDN'T HAVE MADE IT BUT GRILLBY TURNED BACK. HE STOPPED THEM SANS. JUST FOR A LITTLE BIT. THIS IS A _TERRIBLE_ IDEA BUT…"

Papyrus and Grillby exchanged a glance. The fire elemental shrugged.

"To quote you my friend," he said, a smile on his voice, "It doesn't really matter if we get it wrong at this point, does it? Sans, if you two cannot convince the human to reset, I'm dust anyway. Let me do this."

Sans scowled, anger and anxiety fighting it out where his gut should be. He knew he couldn't stop Grillby from doing anything he didn't want to do. The fire elemental was as strong in magic as he was strong-willed. He should be grateful Grillby was even asking permission. But there was a terrible kindness in his request, and as much as Sans hated it, he was loathe to decline it. Not now, not when they were so close to the end.

"... Alright…" Sans sighed, "But _nobody_ is dying this reset, okay?"

Papyrus put a hand on Sans' shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. Grillby chuckled and gave a mockery of a salute.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the writer writes something that's very self indulgent ahaha.  
> ...  
> And there's a choice to be made.  
> Please see the notes at the end of the chapter!

 “This is insane,” Sans muttered, hands in his pockets and gaze set grimly on the misty bank in front of them.

    Grillby and Papyrus were at his side, both watching and waiting. Waiting for Chara and Flowey to make their appearance. They couldn’t have picked a more bitter spot to wait. This was the bank where Papyrus, once upon a reset ago, had always met the human. Before Sans accidentally switched their places. Before everything had gone more sour than it already was. Though he did notice while they were here Papyrus had stopped his fidgeting, his mind grabbing hold of confidence that echoed back at him across time and space. Steeling himself against whatever came next, accepting for now whatever would happen.

    Grillby was silent, firm. But unlike the quiet camaraderie his disposition normally offered, this was callous and prepared. He held his hands crossed behind his back, standing rigidly and attentive, flame faintly stirring in the cool breeze that wafted from the river. If the color of his flame were any indication of what he was feeling, then the bright oranges and yellows said he was calm, normal.

    Perhaps it was Sans’ own nervousness talking, but he doubted this was true. Every part of him from bone to marrow to magic was telling him they shouldn’t be here out in the open just waiting for death to arrive. But on the other hand, he was tired of running. If he were perfectly honest with himself, there wasn’t much farther they could run before the confrontation became inevitable. Why not here and now? Why not while they still had a bit of a chance to decide how the events  unfolded.

    “Sans,” Grillby’s voice held a nervous smile in it, and the skeleton blinked up at him with a smirk to match it.

    “You never payed off your tab,” he chuckled.

    “YOU’RE NOT SERIOUS,” Papyrus groaned, “SANS HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN LETTING THAT GO?”

    Sans shrugged, “With all these resets? Probably years who knows?”

    He elbowed Grillby, “Give you one more reason not to do anything stupid, G. I can’t give gold to a pile of dust.”

    Grillby laughed quietly, “You worry about yourself. Whether I’m dust or not, it’s all in vain if the human doesn’t reset the timeline.”

    Grillby paused, his flame flickering low for a moment. He glanced at the brothers, his body sighing.

    “Though, should this go wrong and this is really the last time we see each other…”

    The brothers gave nearly identical frowns.

    “...I want you both to know,” Grillby said quietly, “That I’m glad I’ve had the chance to know you both. You’re the best friends a fire elemental could ask for.”

    He chuckled, “Even if one of you thinks I can’t cook.”

    Papyrus smiled sadly at this, “YOU’RE COOKING ISN’T BAD, GRILLBY.”

    “Good to know,” the elemental said with a chuckle.

    Sans shook his head, a miserable smile plastered on his face, “Ah jeez… You can’t get sentimental okay? You’re killing me here, G.”

    Grillby crossed his arms in a mockery of a prideful expression, “Well if _I’m_ killing you I don’t know how you’ll ever handle that human of yours.”

    Sans allowed himself a bitter laugh, stopping when the sound of crunching snow caught up with him. All three of them looked towards the noise, a hazy figure coming into view through the mist. Grillby stiffened.

    “They’re here,” he said quietly.

    “Showtime,” Sans said with an ironic grin.

    He took a step closer to Papyrus, his nerves already starting to make him sick. Chara approached steadily, a little bobbing flower occasionally popping up in the snow beside him. They stopped yards away, quiet and tense. Flowey shot out of the ground a few steps ahead of them.

    “Finally!” he shouted annoyedly, “It’s about _time_. Finally decided to stop running in circles like _idiots?_ ”

    Sans clenched his teeth at the sound of the little creature’s voice, a ghost of a pain aching in his chest just at the sound of it. He clenched his fists in his pockets, suppressing a shudder. Papyrus cast a worried look down at him but said nothing.

    Flowey wasted no time, thorny roots exploding out from his base and churning up the snow as they arched forward. Chara shot forward in the same motion, a hand flicking up to grab their knife from their inventory. Their face was a mask of apathy that Sans doubted they could reason through. He yanked a hand from his pocket and prepared to grab Chara’s soul.

    That was when Grillby moved, reacting with a speed and assuredness that Sans had never seen in a monster before. He flicked his wrist, pulling open his inventory and a pillar of fire in the same motion. The wave of heat brushed mercifully past Chara, obliterating Flowey’s roots and turning the snow around them into steam. The plant monster screamed, burying beneath the ground before the flames could devour him completely. Out of Grillby’s inventory came a shield, dull from lack of use but just sturdy enough to take the knife stroke that Chara slashed forward with. It cracked into a shower of magic under the force of Chara’s blow and intent. Grillby spun around the kid, a well-timed shove sending them sprawling several feet past the elemental and into the snow near Sans and Papyrus’ feet. The kid had just enough time to stumble to their feet again before Sans and Papyrus were off, running from a fight that hadn’t even started yet.

    “H-hey!” Chara moved to follow them, but paused to look back at Grillby.

    The elemental was messing with his inventory again, pulling out what looked to be a sword hilt without the blade. He took a moment to adjust the glasses on his face. The calm with which he held himself was disconcerting, even for Chara. He carried himself like someone who’d done this before, and had been really good at it. Like Undyne without the ferocity. Just a cold quiet that weighed down the everything around it with foreboding. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and magic. They watched him warily, Flowey emerging from the ground beside them.

    “Funny,” Grillby spoke quietly so the two were forced to stay quiet to hear him, “I never figured I’d be using any of these old things again. Perhaps if I’d known I would’ve kept them in better shape.”

    Flowey gave an angry groan, “You are _so annoying!_ I just want to be _done!_ ”

    The air grew hotter, the mist giving way to a smoky haze. Grillby raised his free hand, flames dancing around his fingertips. He challenged them silently. Chara stepped forward to meet it, only to have Flowey’s voice snap them back.

    “Augh! Just take care of the boneheads before they get away again!” he growled at Chara.

    “And what makes you think I’ll let you leave?” Grillby with, a smile in his voice.

    Flowey let out another groan, rolling his eyes childishly, “Oh my _god_ this reset is driving me insane.”

    Roots exploded out of the ground around Grillby’s feet, seeking to kill him or cage him. The sword hilt in his hand flared to life in response, a fiery blade snaking out to sever each root before they could reach him. Flowey screamed - this time more from outrage rather than pain - and suddenly the ground at Grillby’s feet was writhing and alive with innumerable roots and vines. Grillby severed some and obliterated others, constantly in motion, flames trailing behind every step in flares of blue and white. In a jolt of panic Flowey didn’t even know he was capable of feeling, he realized the elemental was striding right towards _him_. White bullets materialized into existence in a halo around the little flower, ready to be thrown out as soon as the elemental approached within range.

    Flowey snarled at Chara, who was still standing just behind him and watching the fight with a mix of shock and awe.

    “What is this? One of Mettaton’s shows?” Flowey shouted, knocking Chara from their stupor, “ _Go get the skeletons!”_

    Chara spun on their heel, running off after the brother’s footprints in the snow.

    “And remember to get Sans first!” Flowey called after them before re centering his attention on the fire elemental. Grillby stormed towards him, his flames billowing behind his form like a blazing, trailing cape in the wind. He was awash in yellows, blues, purples and oranges, every inch of his anger a dance of something both beautiful and dangerous. Flowey might be impressed, if he were capable of feeling such a thing.

    Flowey sent the little white bullets showering forward, Grillby brushing through them as if they were nothing. He didn’t even flinch. The little flower let out a long, pathetic whine of annoyance, muttering under his breath once again about how much he despised this timeline and all the stupid things that’d happened inside it. He brought more roots out of the ground and they lashed out at Grillby like snakes, trying to avoid his pillars of fire and that flashing sword.

    Grillby answered the new attacks with righteous fury, his sword a blur of motion as he deflected the vines that struck at him. He hadn’t fought in ages. He’d lost count of the years it’d been since he’d last ever had to harm another soul. There was a stiffness in his movements that he frowned at, a sloppiness that a part of his past self would have reprimanded. But now it was all he could manage, and he was grateful it was enough. For all the worry Sans and Papyrus had held for Grillby, the fire elemental would have thought this battle to be fierce and longstanding. There was a mild disappointment that stung him when he realized it amounted to nothing more than a stubborn child hiding behind a hedge of thorns.

    Finally Grillby landed the hit he had been struggling for - a two handed stroke with his sword that severed both of the pitching roots in a single swing. They crumpled to the ground, dissolving into dust as Grillby stepped past them. His fire burned hot, the snow hissing as it evaporated before his feet. He stalked towards Flowey, the little flower shrinking back to cower before his advance. He stepped within his sword’s reach away, the flame of the blade growing brighter as he prepared to swing down at the petulant little plant.

    He shuddered to a halt when a root suddenly exploded through his chest. Grillby let out a soft gasp, blinking down at the charred appendage in surprise. That was when Flowey started screeching, his root thrashing about and throwing Grillby off his feet before finally dislodging itself. The elemental landed hard near the riverbank, barely stopping himself before he slipped into the freezing water. The snow stung him, his fire hissing as it threatened to be quenched. Grillby tottered to his feet, brushing the moisture off his arms and wincing when he touched it. The fire where it’d touched burned a molten and cooling red.

    “What the _hell??_ ” Flowey yelled at him, shaking his wounded root and glaring at Grillby indignantly, “Why aren’t you dead? You should be _dead!_ ”

    Grillby chuckled, making a show of straightening out his now battered and ripped shirt cuffs, “Well, that was dramatic. That must really hurt huh? Oh you poor little thing.”

    Flowey shook with anger, the ground around his base writhing as he threatened to pull more roots to the surface.

    “I’d feel sorry for you but, hey, you’ve had me running in circles for awhile,” Grillby crossed his arms, his voice low and dangerous, “You’ll have to forgive me, but that was _pretty_ cathartic.”

    “Ha! What is this?” Flowey spat angrily, “What, you getting revenge or something? You think this is a soap opera? You’re _pathetic!_ You’re going to _die_ , you know.”

    “I’m sure.”

    It was impossible to tell if Grillby was being sarcastic or not. Either way, it was infuriating to the little plant.

    “I _will_ kill you, you overgrown _matchstick_!” Flowey snarled as he tore his roots free of the ground, sending them ripping and writhing towards Grillby. The fire elemental raised a hand, his fire flaring with it.

    “We’ll see,” came the ever calm response.

    They clashed again, Grillby now swordless but no less ferocious. Jets and waves of his flame coursed out to meet the seemingly infinite number of attacking roots that Flowey was managing to conjure. Some of the attacks hit, sending Grillby staggering, but none of them really seemed to harm him and it baffled Flowey to no end. He should be losing HP like crazy, crying or begging the plant monster to stop. Instead he just walked off the hits as if they were a minor inconvenience at best.

    Flowey swept up the elemental in a crushing grip, coiling a root around him and constricting it tight. To his increasing annoyance, Grillby seemed unphased. He just clapped his fiery hands down on the thorny appendance and seared it. Flowey let out a hiss and tossed the elemental into the nearest snowbank. Epiphany broke on him when Grillby staggered haggardly to his feet, backpedaling away from the now-melting snow as fast as he could manage. When Grillby turned to face Flowey again, the flame of his left arm was almost completely doused, and he clutched at the arm as if it were wounded.

    “Huh, well aren’t I stupid,” Flowey hummed, a root slithering out of the ground behind the elemental to grab his ankle. He yanked Grillby’s feet out from under him, dragging him over to hold him above the churning river.

    “Though tell me something, hothead,” Flowey laughed, “If you’re such a fancy war hero, how’d you sucker yourself into fighting by a river, huh?”

    Grillby crossed his arms from where he hung, mortal peril doing surprisingly little to rattle his disposition. He was battered all to hell by now, his once crisp bartender’s clothing scored and muddied from repeated abuse. But he still wasn’t phased. Flowey paused suspiciously, his grin melting into a bitter frown. Silence passed between them.

    “In case you’re wondering,” Grillby finally spoke, “No, I’ve never died. Not in a single reset. I admit I have no idea what I should be expecting of the afterlife.”

    He chuckled, smug in spite of his situation. If he had a mouth, he’d be grinning.

    “I do have to wonder however, how much  dropping me in the river will mess up your _precious resets_. Care to find out with me, Flowey?”

* * *

   “Alright! Stop here!” Sans huffed, skidding to a halt in the snow just past the old bridge from Snowdin. Papyrus nodded.

    “FLOWEY WILL HAVE A HARD TIME FINDING A WAY ACROSS THE CANYON IF... SOMETHING SHOULD GO WRONG.”

    He paused, looking back the way they’d come. They could still see like flaring in the distance, arches of fire sometimes roaring so high they tore themselves apart above the treeline. Grillby was still fighting, and from the looks of it, he was fighting ferociously. As the two of them watched, a spiral of blue and yellow jetted into the air, breaking apart like a wave against a cliff face before scattering back to the ground in sparks. Even from here they could smell the wafting stench of smoke and burning plant matter as it curled out from the source of the fighting.

    “Damn,” Sans muttered, “I hope he’s okay.”

    “WE HAVE TO HAVE FAITH IN HIM,” Papyrus said hopefully, “HE WAS IN THE WAR AFTER ALL. HE’S SEEN MUCH MORE TERRIBLE THINGS THAN FLOWEY.”

    Sans didn’t reply, honestly doubting at this point that there could be anything much more evil in this world than Flowey. But he had to admit he was biased, given recent circumstances. He sighed a harsh breath, steeling his nerves as Chara came into view. The two brothers waited patiently as they crossed the bridge. Chara slowed to a stop before them.

    “Sup kid,” Sans said with a pensive smile, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets. He knew the minute he moved, Chara would come running right for him, rules of engagement from the judgement hall acting as triggers for their fight. But he couldn’t do that now, no matter how unnatural it felt to stay still instead of bracing his magic. He couldn’t fight Chara this time.

    “CHARA, PLEASE, WE WANT TO CALL A TRUCE,” Papyrus said, taking a step forward to stand slightly in front of his brother, “WE DON’T WANT TO FIGHT YOU, ALRIGHT?”

    “Do what you want,” Chara said coldly, “I want this done and over with.”

    They started walking forward.

    “CHARA PLEASE, DON’T DO THIS!” Papyrus pleaded, “YOU DON’T HAVE TO FIGHT ANYMORE. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS.”

    Chara didn’t answer. They kept walking.

    “Kid, come on, be reasonable,” Sans piped up, “This is insane. You know what you’re doing right? You’re gonna break the timeline. Not even your determination is gonna save you from that, you understand that right? You’re probably gonna die with the rest of us. That’s not something you want to happen!”

    Sans blinked. Oh. _Oh._ Shit.

    “Kid this isn’t a good idea. This isn’t something you actually _want_ okay?”

    They were walking faster, holy Asgore they were nearly running. Sans could feel his nerves starting to get the best of him, his hands shaking and his soul giving painful lurches. He shot a frantic look at Papyrus, who was too focused on Chara to notice. Sans could see a battle written on his brother’s features, finally fighting himself over what he should be doing. Whether spring Chara was something that was actually possible. Whether it was something he should still believe in. It was a dangerous time to be second guessing himself.

    Chara lunged, knife in hand. Sans side-stepped, pulling Papyrus with him, then again as Chara followed him, and again. Of course. Sans had to die first. Papyrus summoned an attack and parried one of Chara’s knife strokes. The two brothers stepped apart, forcing Chara to split their attention. They backed away a few steps, making sure they kept both brothers in their field of view. Papyrus held an attack in his hand, ready to block. Sans stubbornly kept his hands in his pockets, tired beads of sweat already forming on the side of his skull.

    “HUMAN PLEASE,” Papyrus spoke again, stealing Chara’s attention before they could rush Sans again, “YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS. IT’S NOT TOO LATE. YOU CAN DO THE RIGHT THING.”

    Chara scowled, though Sans noticed it wasn’t angry.

    “I KNOW YOU’VE STOPPED BELIEVING IN YOURSELF,” Papyrus continued desperately, “AND… YOU’VE BEEN TRYING QUITE HARD TO MAKE US DO THE SAME. BUT YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THAT! YOU’RE THE ONE WITH THE STRENGTH TO STOP ALL THIS. YOU CAN FIX THIS. IT’S NOT TOO LATE TO FIX THIS!”

    “Shut up!” Chara stomped a foot on the ground in exasperation, knuckles going white as they clenched around the knife hilt, “Stop talking!”

    “Kid he’s right,” Sans flinched when Chara fixed their glare on him, “I understand okay? I get it. You’re a monster right? You’ve stooped too low to claw your way back up out of this right?”

    Chara took a threatening step towards Sans, who stayed firmly where he was. Even though his hands shook and his soul was beating and quivering in his chest, he wouldn't back down from this. This was ending here.

    “And you can’t remember why you even started doing this in the first place, and it’s really wrong but you just can’t stop doing it now right?” Sans’ nonexistent throat felt tight, his chest ached as he rambled, “And you really wish you could just give up and you could just stop existing so you wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. But you can’t do that. It’s literally impossible no matter what you try.”

    Chara dashed for him, looking bitter and desperate. Sans dodged, the kid’s furious knife strikes, Papyrus occasionally pitching in with a well-timed attack that caught the blade before Sans had to move.

    “But there’s a light at the end of the tunnel right? And soon you won’t have to worry about resets anymore because it’ll just be gone. And you should feel really relieved about that but instead you're pretty damn terrified. But hell why back out now right? You don’t deserve the chance to change your might right? Even if you can fix anything what right do you have to any kind of decent ending right? You never showed mercy to anyone who asked for it. Why should you get it?”

    Something in Chara was breaking apart. He could see it written all over their face. It was a world-shattering expression, devastation and desperation carving them to pieces more efficiently than any knife could.

    “Stop it… stop it! You don’t know anything,” their voice was so broken, sad. Sans heard it there again, that something in them that was still unmistakably a kid that he’d tried so hard to ignore in previous resets. The part of them that was _human_.

    “I know enough,” Sans said past a tense and bitter smile, “I know you’ve got about as much of a chance of stopping yourself as a snowball has a chance in hell, and we both know if it were my choice you wouldn’t get the chance to try.”

    Chara’s attacks were becoming haphazard and sloppy, a fit of desperation and sadness. And they were slowing, all the fatigue and self doubt that had pile onto them over the course of their resets finally catching up to them. Sans caught the kid’s arm as it came across for a shaky swing and pushed them back, their dance of a fight stumbling apart and abruptly stopping. Sans was panting, out of breath from all the dodging and running. Papyrus was just a few steps away from them, having followed the two so he could continue to help.

    “But it’s not my choice kid, I’m not in the judgment hall anymore. I gave that up, remember? Papyrus is.”

    “AND I’LL ALWAYS SPARE YOU CHARA,” Papyrus took a hesitant step towards Chara,opening his arms to the human child. Chara took a step back away from him, frantic and torn.

    “IT’S OKAY, CHARA. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE AFRAID OF THIS,” Papyrus said quietly, “WE’RE NOT GOING TO FIGHT YOU. NEITHER OF US ARE. I PROMISE.”

    Chara took another step back away from them, looking between the two brothers in a haggardly mix of confusion and fear. They didn’t know what to do, _they didn’t know what to do!_ This couldn’t be true, this couldn’t be right.

    “PLEASE CHARA, I’M BEGGING YOU.”

    Sans sighed.

    “DON’T GIVE UP HOPE YET.”

    Chara clutched the sides of their head, yanking at fistfuls of hair in distress. They looked like they might panic, so torn between what they had been doing and what they should be doing that it put them in physical pain. Sans knew that expression. Knew the feeling. And he could offer no comfort for it. He was either too bitter or still too gripped by the feeling himself.

    Papyrus took another hesitant step towards Chara, holding out a hand to them, “CHARA. PLEASE.”

    The estranged child looked up at him, lost and dismayed.

    “IT’S OKAY. JUST… PUT THE KNIFE DOWN ALRIGHT?”

    Chara watched Papyrus’ face, searching for deceit or betrayal. Searching for anything to tell them that they shouldn’t do what the skeleton brother said. Searching for judgement, good or bad. Searching for anything and finding nothing. Just Papyrus doing what Papyrus had always promised to do. Papyrus was sparing them.

    That was when something popped out of the ground, all three of them jumping back in surprise. Flowey flashed a maniacal grin.

    “Well! That took _way_ longer than it should’ve!” he said pleasantly. Sans suddenly found his legs wreathed in vines, holding him in place. He gaped down at them in shock, scorch marks scored into their surface. Papyrus let out a cry as he was entangled as well, the little flower taking no chances.

    “No no no,” Sans muttered, his soul nearly fluttering to a stop, “No no no _no no!_ ”

    Sans flicked his gaze up to meet Flowey’s, the little flower bobbing gleefully on his stem.

    “No!” Sans screamed, “You didn’t! You _couldn’t_!”

    Flowey cackled, a broken up, chimey laugh that made Sans want to be sick.

    “You little _bastard!_ ” Sans spat, his mind reeling somewhere between anger and grief, “What did you do?!”

    Flowey grinned, “Oh I didn’t do _much_. Your little hot head was the one who decided to take a swim. I was just gonna hold him there. It’s not my fault he got a little too hot to handle.”

    Sans let out a choking, strangled whine, the only sound he could really manage. He was angry, bitter beyond words. His fists clenched and shook. He wanted nothing more than to yank the little weed out of the ground from his roots. And he would have, had another of Flowey’s roots not wormed its way out of the ground at his feet. It coiled and poised itself, pointing threateningly at his chest. Sans considered for a hard second if the pain would be worth it.

    “Now Chara,” Flowey said sweetly, making the child flinch, “You know better than to let them gang up on you like that! But it’s okay, I’ve fixed it now.”

    Chara blinked down at him, then over to Sans.

    “Go on,” Flowey said encouragingly, though Sans could hear a rumbling purr under the goodnatured tone. He could hear that dangerous undertone as it rose to the surface.

    “Let’s finally get this done and over with!”

    Chara didn’t move for a long minute, but the entire time that smug grin never left Flowey’s face. Sans’ soul sunk in his chest as the kid started walking towards him. That was it. They’d lost. The minute Grillby had perished, their hope had fizzled out with him. Sans was a breath away from just saying screw it and tearing the kid to pieces with his magic a few times before going out. He blinked as a second, quieter idea surfaced.

    Sans slipped his hands out of his pockets. Chara braced themselves for an attack, the root that Flowey was lording over Sans tensed. The skeleton ignored them both. He dragged open his inventory, unequipping the journal that he’d been holding with him so steadfastly. It fizzled into existence in his hands. He gave it a glance before tossing it into the snow.

    “I’ll make this easy for you kid,” Sans sighed tiredly, “That’s it. I’m done.”

    “ _SANS!”_ Papyrus raised a hand to summon an attack, but was cut off when a vine yanked his arm back and pinned it to his side, “SANS DON’T!”

    In a fluid motion Sans shouldn’t even know how to do, he flicked his magic across his own soul and bared it forward, smiling grimly as the little heart floated unnaturally outside of his ribcage. Chara stared at it with quiet shock. Sans sunk his hands back in his pockets.

    “Alright kid,” Sans said, his voice hollow in his throat, “I’m back down to one hit kill for ya. And now you can’t miss.”

    “ _SANS!”_

    “I’m tired, kid,” Sans continued, a sigh on his teeth, “And to be honest, I’m really done with this whole mess, y’know? I’ve been done for a while, actually. So uh… since you’re so determined to finish this in the absolute worst way possible, I won’t stop ya.”

    He closed his eyes, a tired grin plastered on his face, “Won’t even fight ya over it, kid. Just try not to miss, alright?”

    Sans could hear Papyrus struggling back against Flowey. Unused magic filled the air with an electric hum. Sans ignored it.

    Chara watched him, knife in hand, a pained grimace on their face.

    > _FIGHT_

    > _MERCY_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! I bet you guys are pretty confused at me at this point!  
> I was hoping to get all the chapters to this story uploaded on AO3 before the big finale, but unfortunately life and forgetfulness got in the way (I've been uploading this to Fanfiction.net and DeviantArt respectively already, and probably would've uploaded to AO3 more seriously had I actually gotten an account in a decent amount of time. As it stood I was over halfway through thes tory by the time my request to join was finally accepted).  
> So as far as preparation goes, those of you that follow the story over here are a bit in the dark! So let me (finally) throw some clarity over here ahaha. 
> 
> This entire story I've been working towards two different endings that you get to choose: Mercy and Fight. The end decision on which ending is canon for this story is yours and yours alone! I like the idea of leaving the decision to you guys, because I personally could go either way. Not to mention the whole purpose of Undertale as a game was for the viewers/players to decide what to do in tough situations. So without further adue, here's how this is going down!
> 
> I will be taking votes until February 25th at 7pm EST. That'll give me a week to write both endings. I'll post the "canon" ending (what you guys vote for) by the end of the night. The "noncanon" ending will be posted shortly after (probably one or two days later) should you guys vote to see both. 
> 
> And without further adue, here's the link for you to follow for voting! See you all back at this story in a week :D
> 
> http://www.easypolls.net/poll.html?p=56c67e51e4b0b80aa9d175b4


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which mercy wins by a landslide  
> (no seriously, like 200+ votes to like... 30 for fight. You guys are insanely nice people)

>  _Mercy_

Sans did his best not to flinch when he heard Chara walking forward, their feet crunching through the snow with the same grim assuredness of an executioner's drum beats. He shuddered under the weight of his own magic as it held him paralyzed, Flowey's restraints on his legs meaningless before it. Sans' very essence felt heavy, as if gravity had decided to triple its normal hold on him. It drew on his fatigue from running, hiding, the stress of the reset and the inevitable death before him. It was such a harsh and bitter magic, and Sans wondered how the kid had ever gotten used to it. Learned to fight against it. Though Sans had to admit he was a weak monster, even if his magic was strong. The pull on his soul sapped him of energy, both from fighting against it and using magic that was already taxed to its breaking point.

Sans thought with a bitter grin that if Chara didn't hurry up, he might just kill himself from exhaustion or strain.

Papyrus was struggling, fighting against the hold Flowey had him locked in uselessly. He yelled and cried and begged, his voice desperate and tearful. He might as well be trying to struggle against a brick wall. It must hurt like one. Sans could hear the subtle sounds of bones creaking under strain, threatening to crack or fracture. His magic fizzled and filled the air with an electric reek, too cold and frantic to be used properly. Sans wished he'd just give up.

The footsteps drew closer.

Sans tried not to betray his own fear. He forced himself to breathe deeply and evenly, counting the breaths in his head as if he were trying to cool down from a panic attack. He was good at it, even if it didn't work well. He'd had plenty of practice after all. In some weirdly detached way he could feel his soul quiver and throb in a maddeningly uncontrollable way outside of his chest. Out in the open for the world to see, floating outside of his rib cage, exposed to whatever happened next. No matter how he paced his breathing it wouldn't steady, too busy shouting frenetically about his fear to listen to him as he tried to still it. He wished it would stop. Knew that it would soon shatter and stop forever. He should be relieved, but instead all he felt was mounting terror. Everything he'd done had turned out so pointless in the end. Such a pathetically useless waste of energy.

The footsteps stopped.

Sans blinked down at the kid, quietly surprised to see them holding the knife rather uselessly, gripping it limply in tired hands. They looked up at Sans, frowning miserably, and then down at his soul. They weren't crying, though the way they held themselves suggested they wanted to. The way they held themselves, cracking apathy forcing their shoulders to stoop and their spine to bend beneath the mounting weight of everything they'd done, it cried for them. They watched his soul as it shivered with tired eyes, and Sans gulped down the tightness forming in the throat he didn't have. It looked worse than it had the last time Sans had seen it. The hair thin cracks were deeper and more pronounced, refracting light around the glowing blue soul in purples and violets that just served to make the cracks look deeper and bruised. Each shiver it made threatened to crack it apart further, finally shattering into nothing and never to reform again. It looked startlingly fragile and bare, like cracked glass. As if the lightest touch could destroy it. Chara reached a hand out towards it, and Sans went rigid. The little soul gave a fearful jerk to reflect his own fear, and Chara stopped their hand hesitantly before they could touch it.

"Put it back."

Their voice was so soft Sans could hardly hear it.

"Please."

Sans found himself scared to move, as if the kid were under some sort of spell and just moving would break it. What was this trap they were setting? Surely, after all this time, there was  _no way_  they were considering the miracle Papyrus believed in so wholeheartedly.

They looked back up at him again, their hand hovering before his soul as if the motion alone could shove it back where it belonged, but in the end were too scared of breaking it to actually touch it. Sans dropped his hold on his magic with a strangled sort of sigh, his soul sinking back into it's natural place and nearly making him shudder. Chara watched as the shattered little thing disappeared, a weird sort of twisted grimace on their face. They looked up at him, looking very human and very small. Looking very much less like a murderer and very much more like a pathetic, remorseful child.

"Papyrus said you… wouldn't… kill me."

The knife slipped uselessly from their hands and they flung themselves forward, wrapping their arms around Sans in a hug, desperately tight and shivering. Sans cringed under it, both from the ache it sent through his chest and from the fear they had something much less merciful planned.

Chara didn't apologize. They didn't cry and they didn't let go. They just screwed their eyes shut and waited, body tensed and braced for Sans to attack them. For him to kill them like they knew - or thought they knew - he would. Sans blinked down at the kid, shocked and hesitant, breath held. And he waited, waited for a trap to be sprung and for the evil to creep back into Chara's face and for the feeling of pain and pins and needles. The both of them paused there for seconds that felt like hours, gripped as much by denial as they could ever be by fear. To both Chara and Sans' surprise, Sans didn't attack and Chara didn't change their mind. Sans put a hand hesitantly on the kid's back, feeling them flinch at his touch but refuse to let go of him. It was as close to hugging them back as Sans dared to manage, and as close to believing they were spared as Chara could hope for. Sans flashed them a smile they didn't see, cracked and exhausted and a thousand times relieved. He could have collapsed right there is Flowey's grip wasn't keeping him standing.

Papyrus let out a loud laugh, his very voice grinning, "YES! YES HOLY ASGORE  _YES_! YOU DIDN'T DO A VIOLENCE! I KNEW YOU TWO HAD IT IN YOU! I JUST  _KNEW_  IT!"

He was straining and pulling against Flowey's vines again, but in elation instead of desperation. Papyrus grinned at Sans, and Sans fought the laugh that rose into his throat at the sight of his brother's excitement. Instead, his gaze flicked over to Flowey, his smile melting into something that much more resembled a snarl. His fingers curled into the fabric on the back of Chara's shirt, his grip getting a little tighter. Chara looked up at him in alarm, frowning in confusion when they realized the anger on Sans' face wasn't directed towards them. They glanced over their shoulder at Flowey.

"Alright Flowey, you've had your fun and you lost," Sans shouted, his voice rumbling low in his chest, "The kid's done with this and so are we. Let us go."

Flowey grinned at him, a twitching, manic thing that looked equal parts enraged and ecstatic. Sans felt the vines around his legs tighten painfully, the coils constricting just enough to make the tibia and fibula start to bend towards each other threateningly. It made Sans' breath hitch in his throat. Chara looked down at the tightening roots and stepped away from Sans, watching Flowey with an apologetic frown.

"Let go Flowey, it's not worth it," Chara said beseechingly, "It was a dumb idea and it never would've worked okay? Just stop."

"Oh my  _god_ , Chara," Flowey laughed with an angry roll of his eyes, "I can't believe this. I really can't. You're so  _cruel_ , you know that?"

Flowey let out another long, piping laugh as he ripped his stem out of the ground, building himself taller and taller to stare down at the others with a snarl-like grin. The ground began pitching and writhing, unused roots crawling to the surface. The earth shook threateningly, a low rumble permeating the air around them. The sound came from deeper than even Flowey's roots, and the sadistic flower gave a thrilled shiver.

"Oops," he grinned, "Probably wasn't too smart moving us to a cliff, huh boneheads? You guys really should work on your strategy. First abandoning your matchstick by a river and now this."

Sans gaped at the implications, a sudden, dizzying acrophobia tightening his chest.

"You're insane!" he shouted as the air around him shuddered with another low, destabilizing roar, "What's the point Flowey?! You just feel like killing everyone in the damn timeline?! The kid's already done that enough, there's no point left in it! Just give up!"

"I beg to differ," the flower spat patronizingly, "You know what's  _really_ pointless? Being dead and suddenly waking up in a body that doesn't  _feel_ anything!"

There was a crack somewhere, rubble breaking free of the cliffside and crashing down into the valley that stretched hundreds of feet below them. The ground shivered as some more of Flowey's roots burst from the ground. Sans gazed across at his brother, grimacing at the vines that kept his arms pinned to his side and his legs locked in place. The two exchanged a desperate look.

"But even when you  _want_ to finally give up because you're literally  _bored to death_ of this stupid world, your Determination keeps you in place. And then you finally figure out that if you break the stupid timeline, you'll actually die. But when you break your timeline, instead of  _actually_  dying, you just float around in this weird void until another timeline sucks you back in again. But right before it sucks you back in you get a glimpse, just an  _itty bitty peek_ of a timeline where you never got put in a plant body and you're still  _Asriel_."

Sans flicked his gaze over to the kid, who by now had fallen to their knees in fear. They clutched at the snow as if that could anchor them in place, knowing full well if the cliffside gave way it would be a useless motion. With every groan the shuddering ground made, they let out a fearful scream. Sans couldn't blame them. Waves of fear washed over him whenever the slightest tremble made it's way through the ground.

"But funny thing there, the timeline that sucked you in  _isn't_ that one! In this one, your  _sibling_ is still alive. Kind of. Just you know, a disembodied soul floating around with some  _brat_. But hey if you two can break this timeline and skip around to a few different ones, hey someday you will end up in the timeline you  _need_. The one where your sibling  _isn't_ a  _parasite_. And you never listened to their stupid idea about breaking the barrier and never ended up  _dead_."

Flowey laughed, haloes of bullets ringing themselves around his stem and head. An oppressive magic crackled it's way through the air, building with the rumbles and shakes of the cliffside. Sans nearly gagged on it, the building strength of it palpable enough to haze the air.

"And just before you  _finally_ break this stupid timeline, everyone finally decides to have a conscious and not to go through with it? Ha! You're not  _allowed_ to choose anymore! You made your choice dozens of resets ago! In  _this world_ it's kill or  _be killed_. It's not my fault you  _idiots_ decided you wanted to be the weak ones!"

A rift snaked it's way across the ground, the snow sinking into it to muffle the gravelly roar it made as it began to fall apart. Sans locked his gaze on Papyrus, his soul nearly stopping when the crack wound between them. The vines holding his brother abruptly released him, sending the skeleton collapsing into the snow. Then they ripped downward, burying themselves in the unstable earth and ripping the crevice wider. The ground shook, throwing Papyrus back off his feet as soon as he stumbled up. The ground tilted and the air filled with an earthy groan.

"So  _fine then_! You're all done cooperating? Well you know what they say about omelets and eggs. I don't care  _how many resets_ it takes. I will kill you all  _over and over_ until I break it myself!"

Sans reached, his magic wrapping around his brother's soul. He gave it a harsh yank, trying to pull his brother onto steadier ground before the cliffside gave way beneath him. He was answered by the snow around him exploding into motion, Flowey's vicious roots arching towards him in attack. Sans snarled and answered with magic of his own, a cage of bones tearing through them while his fist still gripped his brother's soul. The strain made him grit his teeth and his head spin. The roots twisted around his legs tightened and threatened to snap his bones like a vice. Sans closed his eyes and pulled, ignoring his own plight in favor of his brother's.

There was a splatter of sap and Sans staggered as the vines that held him in place suddenly dissolved into dust. Chara stood beside him for a moment, their knife blade flashing before them to counter a swift hail of bullets that Flowey poured out to them. Within an instant though one of Flowey's roots had snapped out of the ground beside them though, and with a solid hit Chara was sent tumbling away. They skid to a halt dangerously close to the cliff's edge, and as the ground pitched they were almost lost to the abyss. They probably would have been, in fact, had Papyrus not grasped ahold of their soul in time. He pulled them close with his magic, only letting go when Chara was safely in his arms.

"I'VE GOT YOU HUMAN," he said with a voice that was surprisingly even despite the peril he was in. The world rumbled, Flowey's roots below the ground thrashing and tearing the earth apart. A handful of new cracks split the cliffside, sending trees crunching over the edge to their splattering ends far below. Flowey's roots arched in all directions. Towards Papyrus and Chara, towards Sans. The shorter skeleton dropped to his knees with a shout, begging his magic to hold just a little longer and reach just a little farther.

Sans clenched a fist around whatever served as Flowey's soul and the desperately pitching and churning world screeched to a stop. The earth still rumbled, the ground trembled, there were muted cracks as pieces of the edges of the cliff broke away and tumbled. Flowey's roots twitched, yanking against the grip Sans held him in, paused dangerously close to Sans' torso and throat. Paused less than a second away from his brother as he cringed himself around Chara's body protectively to save them.

Divided between the plant and Papyrus, Sans felt like his soul might split in half. He swallowed thickly against the ache building in his chest, a ghosting, creeping feeling of pins and needles dancing across his limbs. He wondered hazily if he let Papyrus go if his brother would be able to scale the tilting ground well enough to save himself and Chara. A louder, more hesitant voice saw the perilous crack in the ground and realized with panic that the minute his brother touched his feet to the ground again it could give way.

Sans could feel his grip on everyone slipping, and his grip on reality slipping even more.

"Kid," Sans growled weakly through clenched teeth, "I'm gonna let you go."

Chara clung a little tighter to Papyrus.

"And you're gonna Reset."

Flowey's vines gave a jerk as Sans' concentration slipped. With a curse he tightened his hold, stopping their forward lurch inches before they found their mark. His gaze locked on the nearest one. The ground let out a bitter rumble from the half second of damage Flowey had managed, more of the cliffside slipping and breaking away.

"Ha! Yeah Chara  _reset!_ " the plant monster spat as he eagerly yanked against the blue that held him, chipping away at Sans' meager reserves of strength in leaps and bounds, "Split the timeline apart! It'll be  _fun_!"

"THE TIMELINE HAS CHANGED TOO MUCH FOR IT TO BREAK," Papyrus said confidently, "WE'LL BE OKAY. CHARA, YOU NEED TO RESET."

Sans was shaking, his body starting to feel faint. Beads of sweat traced the side of his face. The feeling of pins and needles creeping across him grew stronger, brutally reminding him he couldn't keep using his magic this way much longer. Nothing had turned to dust yet though. That was promising.

"Oh yeah, sure," Flowey chuckled, "Except it takes a few seconds to reset the timeline. And I'll have dusted both of you by then, if the cliff doesn't give way first. Wanna take bets on whether your change is enough to fix  _that_?"

The ground gave a threatening rumble.

"SANS LET US GO," Papyrus said firmly, "KEEP FLOWEY STILL. I'LL MAKE SURE WE DON'T FALL."

Some bitter part of Sans' mind knew 'we' actually meant 'Chara'. If the cliff went, Papyrus wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice himself so the kid didn't go with it. An even more bitter part of him knew if he let go of one of them, he'd probably slip and let go of both. What to do, what to do with the magic he had left?

_They need time._

With an effort, Sans got to his feet. His hold slipped an inch, Flowey's attacks stuttering closer.

_Give them time._

Sans yanked hard on his magic, throwing everything he was holding to the side before letting go. Flowey lurched on his stem, his attacking roots staggered sideways. Papyrus and Chara were sent cartwheeling across the snow. His brother managed to find his feet at the edge of the vicious crack in the ground, leaping over it as the earth groaned and gave once paused world lunged back into motion, Flowey's startled attacks reforming and pushing forward with ferocity and maniacal anger.

Papyrus met them with equal ambition, row upon row of bones tearing up the soil to block the attacks as he ran towards his brother. Blue and white attacks mixed together in succession, stinging away vines before they could land killing blows. They tore through blind attacks that rose to grab Sans from behind, a hedge of protection that refused to fail.

Sans huffed a tired breath and tugged hard on whatever magic he had left, a line of gaster blasters opening their maws behind him. They fired, tearing into Flowey's roots, burning them into a mass of bubbling sap and ash. The little flower disappeared below the ground before the ionizing beam could wipe him from existence. He popped back up just as the blasters faded away, rings of bullets flaring to life in the air around him and raining down on Sans as he struggled down onto one knee in exhaustion.

Sans blinked, not even allowed to let hopelessness grip him before Papyrus lunged in front of him, a line of floating bones arching before his hand. What bullets he didn't deflect he let tear into him, his boundless HP soaking in the damage Sans was incapable of taking. Papyrus dropped Chara into the snow beside Sans, letting his attack dissipate as the rain of bullets stopped. He gripped his right arm tiredly, one of the bullets having hit it hard enough to send fractures down the bone.

The human sat down on the ground, pulling open a menu Sans had never seen before. They reached hesitantly for one of the options within. The ground rumbled, Flowey snarled.

_> RESET_

Sans felt the entire world give a tug, a burning sound like static ringing to life beneath the sounds of cracking earth. The sky got darker, the colors greyer.

Vines exploded in a cage around them, Flowey screaming and writhing on his stem in anger as he sent them crashing down. Papyrus stepped as close to Sans as he could, attacks blooming into existence in an attempt to block. Flowey tore through them in an instant, only hesitating when Sans shot through the threatening vines with a half-formed and crumbling blaster. He burned through a handful before the rest cascaded towards them. Papyrus hugged Sans tight, one long arm wrapping around Chara protectively as well. Sans' eyes were open, but he'd never seen the world so dark.

* * *

Sans jolted awake, a dying scream writhing around where his throat should be. His fingers were clenching knots in his bed sheets, his body shaking and breathing tight. Where was the pain, the death he'd been expecting? Where was Chara and why wasn't his brother crumbling to dust around his body as he took the hit first? Why was the world light blue?

Sans blinked at his ceiling, drinking in gulps of air as his pulsing soul began to calm. He frowned disbelievingly at his ceiling, at the cyan hues cast across it from his burning eye. He sat up in bed slowly, soul still fluttering in his chest, casting his gaze about his room in muted apprehension. Everything was in place, light angled through closed blinds to throw lines across his floor. He didn't realize he'd been tensely holding an attack in reserve until with a sigh he released it, very ounce of his building magic dropped out of the air with a rush of relief. He blinked, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"SANS!"

Sans clamored out of bed just as his door was flung open. He laughed as Papyrus swept him up in an enthusiastic hug, pulling his shorter brother off the ground and spinning him.

"WE'RE ALIVE SANS! WE'RE ALIVE!" he shouted in between rolling  _nyehehes!_ of laughter, "IT WORKED! SANS IT WORKED!"

His brother tripped over his own heavy boots, sending both skeletons sprawling in a laughing and joyful heap on the floor. They didn't care about the clutter strewn about the floor, Papyrus didn't complain about the mess and Sans ignored the ache in his chest. They just laid there uncaringly and laughed, loud and gasping and effortlessly.

"I KNEW IT!" Papyrus said joyously in between giggles and gasps, "I KNEW IT BROTHER I KNEW IT! CHARA HAD GOOD IN THEM. YOU SPARED THEM I… I'VE NEVER BEEN SO PROUD IN MY LIFE."

Sans sighed happily, his ribcage still shuddering in hardly contained laughter, "You were right bro. You're always right."

He grinned, "What can you expect from the Great Papyrus, though?"

Papyrus hugged his arms around Sans' waist and pulled him close, burying his face in the back of his brother's neck. Sans let himself be dragged, patiently ignoring the fact that his brother's laughs had begun to sound a lot more like sobs. Papyrus tightened his hug as much as he dared, nuzzling his face against the back of Sans skull as if he could hide there.

"NEVER AGAIN," Papyrus said tearfully, "LET'S… NEVER…  _NEVER_  DO THAT AGAIN."

Sans patted Papyrus' arm reassuringly, "Sure thing bro."

"NO AVOIDING EACH OTHER," his brother continued, calming a bit but still clinging to Sans tightly, "NO HIDING THINGS. N-NO FIGHTING ALONE. NONE OF IT."

"Huh… weird."

"NONE OF THAT IS WEIRD! IT'S ALL PERFECTLY REASONABLE," Papryus moved a hand to dab at one of his eyes. He released Sans, letting the smaller skeleton sit up and look down at him. Papyrus frowned at the very serious look on his face.

"SANS…?"

"No I really don't get it," Sans said, his brow lowering gravely, "You know I'd probably say yes to just about anything you say right now. And not once did you tell me not to do puns."

Papyrus opened his mouth to say something, and then abruptly scowled.

"Ah well, probably wouldn't have done it anyway,  _tibia_ honest," Sans said with a shrug as he stood, "I'd be  _fibula_ -ing if I said I wasn't expecting it though. You get so  _sternum_ about this stuff sometimes."

Papyrus let out a long sigh, slapping his face with one of his hands, "OH NO WHAT HAVE I DONE?"

"Aww c'mon bro, don't you find these-"

"NO I DO NOT FIND THEM  _HUMOROUS_ SANS!" Papyrus rolled his eyes, "AND YOU USE THAT ONE WAY TOO MUCH ANYWAY."

Sans chuckled and Papyrus fixed him in a glare.

"Guess I'll have to-"

"NO."

"Put a little more-"

"SANS STOP."

" _Backbone_ into it?"

Papyrus let out a dramatic sigh, throwing one of his arms across his face in the most dramatic swoon Sans had ever seen. He grinned down at his brother, poking his forearm with one of his slippered feet.

"NOPE. I'M DEAD," Papyrus wailed pathetically, "YOUR PUNS ARE  _THAT_ TERRIBLE."

Sans chuckled, "Don't mean to be morbid here bro, but I guess you've really  _fallen down_ over these huh?"

Papyrus chuckled, slapping Sans' leg and nearly knocking him over, "That one was a stretch and you  _know_  it."

Sans beamed, and his brother beamed back. A light feeling brushed over Sans, washing over his soul in waves. It was… nice. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to smile. It was warm, comforting.  _Perfect_  almost. But there was something missing. Sabs gave a jolt, a thought hitting him like a train.

"Holy Asgore!" Sans shouted, making his brother jump, "Bro! Grillby's gonna be back!"

The two brothers exchanged a second of a glance before both of them were out the door, Papyrus tossing his brother his jacket as they went. They ran down Snowdin's streets, shouting stumbling apologies when they nearly knocked someone over in their haste. They skid to a halt in front of the fire elemental's bar, Sans' stomach turning in fluttering nervousness when he rested a hand on the doorknob and realized it was locked. He looked up at Papyrus, seeing his own worry mirror itself on the taller skeleton's face.

"Grillby?" Sans called, walking around to the nearest window and peeking in. The interior was dark still, not even the slightest hint of light or warmth inside. Sans looked back at his brother again, his worry mounting. Papyrus waved him over.

"PERHAPS HE HAS DECIDED TO SLEEP IN A BIT?" Papyrus said hopefully, and Sans nodded quickly, grasping onto any little bit of hopefulness he could get. He took a breath, steadying nerves that were already fraying themselves.

"Do you remember where he lives?"

They struck off again, this time in an even larger hurry before - if it was possible. Sans trailed his brother down a handful of streets, keeping pace to his own bafflement. People stared and one of the kids pointed, confused by the break in the skeleton brothers' normal routine. Worried about their haste but with no real idea why. Sans and Papyrus rounded the corner of a final street, the taller brother giving an excited yell and pointing excitedly at a building to their right.

"THERE! THERE! SEE?" he laughed. Sans looked past him and grinned, watching as the fire elemental turned the key on his door to lock it for the day. Grillby had enough time to look up at the excited voices before Papyrus had tackled him in a hug, knocking both of them off their feet. Sans pinged Grillby's soul, halting the elemental's fall before he could hit the snow. Papyrus let himself fall, laughing hysterically. The elemental laughed as well, his flame flickering in excited hues of every imaginable color a fire could possibly have. Relief, happiness, and a wistful sort of hopefulness all melted through him in ripples of violet and cyan.

"And I thought only Undyne did friendly suplexes," Grillby said amusedly from where he hovered. Papyrus gave another snort of laughter in response. Sans chuckled with him, lower Grillby gently back onto his own two feet as he did. The elemental crossed his arms patronizingly, staring down at Sans in a show of a glare.

"Well," he chuckled, his fire flickering happily, "Since I'm standing in the middle of a snowy wasteland I can only assume you two failed and we're all to spend an eternity in an ice hell."

Sans laughed happily, "Harsh G. What, you consider my jokes a  _pun_ ishment then?"

"UHM,  _EXCUSE_ ME," Papyrus interjected as he bounded back to his feet, "PERHAPS  _YOU TWO_  WEIRDOS DESERVE PURGATORY, BUT OBVIOUSLY THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD ONLY GO TO THE MOST PLEASANT OF AFTERLIVES! THEREFORE WE  _MUST_ HAVE SUCCEEDED!"

He crossed his arms matter-of-factly before punctuating his point with a flair of a stomp. Grillby laughed, patting Papyrus reassuringly on the back.

"Ah yes, how could I have ever doubted," the elemental beamed, his fire burning pleasantly warm and bright in his happiness, "You have no idea how relieved I am that you two managed to fix this."

"Couldn't have done it without ya, G," Sans' grin turned bittersweet, "But hell, what did I say about getting yourself killed? You nearly scared the life outta me - which given the situation is really sayin' something."

"IT  _DID_ SCARE THE LIFE OUT OF YOU," there was a bite in Papyrus' voice that Sans wasn't expecting, "NEVER MAKE ME FEEL THAT HELPLESS AGAIN."

Grillby glanced between the two brothers, his flame going down a bit at the tenseness in the air. He interrupted them before anything harsh could ruin the moment.

"Sounds like we have some stories to share," Grillby said gently, "Why don't we have a drink together?  _I_ for one could stand for something strong to kill my nerves."

Papyrus cracked a smile, relaxing again, "I COULD DEFINITELY GO FOR A TALL GLASS OF MILK RIGHT ABOUT NOW."

Grillby placed a gentle hand on each of the skeletons' shoulders and led them towards his bar.

"We can even put it on  _Sans' tab_ ," he added wryly, casting Sans a sidelong glance.

Sans gave a groan, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. His smile was genuine.

* * *

They sat and they drank, contenting themselves with Grillby's warmth and his cooking. Papyrus gushed about Grillby's valor and bravery, firing questions about the fight that Grillby answered with subtlety - served with just the right helping of pride at the edge of his voice. The elemental recounted his battle, earning vindictive grins from the brothers when he told of his wit in throwing Flowey's own words back at him. They listened with quiet urgency when he was wounded, and bitter seething when he explained how he perished. Flowey had told the truth on some grounds - he had been more than content in coiling a vine around the elemental's pant leg and leaving it there as his stem left to keep tabs on the actual fighting. Grillby had sealed his fate himself, preferring to add to the chaos and chance of a final reset then to hang perilously and wait for the world to end. There was a thoughtful silence that took them when he explained this, broken only when he began to question the brothers on their side of the fighitng.

He waited in pensive silence as they recounted their tale, his only display of emotion coming from the harsh flickering and changing colors of his flame during the more hopeless moments. Papyrus was all too verbal about what he thought of Sans' choice in the end - proud that he had spared Chara but ultimately horrified at how willingly he'd offered for his own life to be ended. He did manage to hesitantly agree, however, that the last bit of desperation had probably been what pushed Chara to make the decision they had in sparing them. He quietly reminded them that Chara's intentions at the end of their rampage of resets had ultimately been more self destructive then out of any actual malevolence towards the monsters themselves. It was a bitter explanation to swallow, but one that Sans could relate to in some cold and dark portion of his soul. He kept this thought to himself though.

They continued their conversation in whispers as regulars to Grillby's restaurant began to arrive, their discussion peppered with breaks when the elemental had to cook for and serve anyone that asked for it. Mid-morning rolled around, a few of the royal guards checking in for breakfast before leaving for their posts. When they arrived Sans and Papyrus left, waving fond farewells to Grillby as they did so. Papyrus left promising begrudgingly to visit his establishment more often - if for nothing else than the camaraderie. He still hated the grease, even if he could admit the food tasted good. Sans grinned at this past a bottle of ketchup.

The left for their posts together, Papyrus heaving a sigh of relief when he realized his traps had once again reset to puzzles. Sans asked him quietly not to make them again, and Papyrus promised him so with a solemn nod. They approached Sans' outpost, a light flurry of snowfall muting their steps and thoughts as they paused there. Sans looked forward to the ruins, sighing out a nervous breath.

"So the moment of truth arrives," Sans said, suddenly feeling a heavy sort of tiredness settle across his bones. Unspoken worries crossed the air between them. Thoughts cast about to Flowey's threats to break the timeline himself. Stumbling over Chara's hesitation and how easily corrupted and manipulated they could be.

Sans glanced sideways at Papyrus, noticing the subtle movement he made as he resisted the urge to wring his hands nervously.

"WE CAN ONLY HOPE FOR THE BEST AT THIS POINT, I BELIEVE."

They paused together in worried silence.

"GIVE THEM A CHANCE."

Sans slipped his hands in his pockets.

"Evacuate with the others if the worst happens," he muttered daringly.

"THE WORST WON'T HAPPEN," Papyrus answered with equal steel.

Sans sighed out a harsh breath, clenching and unclenching his fists in his pockets before stepping off. He walked towards the giant doors, trying very hard to look relaxed and lazy.

"SANS."

He paused and glanced back at his brother, smiling half-heartedly. Papyrus gave him a small, encouraging wave. A smile lit his face.

"I BELIEVE IN YOU BROTHER," he said, the weight in his words holding the kind of seriousness Sans was slowly becoming accustomed to. A hopeful solemn that understood, protected. That cared.

"I LOVE YOU."

Sans smirked past a swelling sort of pride in his chest. He let it wash over him, brighten his day a bit. Standing in the light of the most glorious person he knew. He sighed and smiled.

"I love you too, Pap," he answered, hoping his words could carry with them the respect he truly felt, "Never stop being awesome, okay?"

Papyrus grinned and struck a pose, a fist clasped to his chest triumphantly, "WHAT ELSE CAN YOU EXPECT FROM THE  _GREAT_ PAPYRUS?"

The two parted, Sans vanishing up the trail ahead to meet the human as they entered the snowscape while Papyrus backtracked to recalibrate his puzzles and prepare. Sans was left with a pensive sort of loneliness curling itself close to his soul, and a nervous foreboding huddling close beside it. For the first time in a while, he had no idea what would be coming through the ruins' doors. He sighed out a breath and stepped off the path, hiding himself in the treeline. He waited.

Sans was just at the point where he began to doze off, leaning against a tree as he was, when the resounding  _thud!_ of the doors closing grabbed his attention. Sans held his breath and waited, watching. Chara stumbled their way into view, and Sans frowned, for a moment worried that Flowey had managed to injure them before they'd even made it through the doors. As he watched though, he noticed the steps weren't hurt in their stumbling, only unfamiliar. As if the world they'd walked into was new to them, or almost forgotten. There was something about them as well, some underlying difference that struck Sans as different even if he couldn't put a finger bone on what it was exactly.

This... wasn't Chara.

Sans' mind was cast back to a passing conversation in the dark, and a venomous little flower spitting about a parasite. Something clicked. This was the human who Chara had been using. The 'stolen soul' that Chara had been borrowing as they'd lay waste to the underground. Sans frowned, building anxiety digging cold fingers into his ribcage at the newness of it. The insidious unpredictability. Sans sighed quietly to himself, casting one last glance down the road in search of Flowey and finding nothing.

Papyrus wanted him to give them a chance. If for nothing else than to show he was trying, to show he could manage with the little hope he'd found upon awaking in this timeline, he would. Sans stepped into the road behind the human, working a warm smile onto his face.

* * *

In all of his fondest dreams, Sans could have never hoped for a better reset. The human was indeed their own soul, completely different from Chara. They were quiet but exuded a sort of hesitant bravery as they approached the monster world. Sans startled them when they met, but they laughed at his humor. Papyrus intimidated them, but they grew fond of his enthusiasm as they worked their way contentedly through hilarious japes and puzzles. And all the while, the brothers stayed close together, never one out of the sight of the other. They liked it this way, and their banter back and forth seemed to warm the human to them even more. The time came for Papyrus to face them, and only then did the brothers part company. Sans waited nervously at Grillby's, the elemental sharing drinks and kind words with him to keep him calm and sane.

Papyrus captured the human three times before allowing them to escape in a show of laughably heroic goodwill. They dated - platonically, to Sans' relief - and the human was sent off to Waterfall to deal with Undyne. Papyrus threw his heart and soul into convincing Undyne that they were harmless while Sans stalked the kid from the shadows as they worked their way through the underground, sparing every monster they came across. Sans shrugged off how creepy he felt tailing them like he did, but he was waiting for Chara, wondering about them and if they would manifest again. What they would do if they regained control.

He also looked out for Flowey, scowling whenever he caught glimpses of the annoying little creature's head as it disappeared beneath the ground. Of course, he was waiting for the same thing that Sans was. Waiting for Chara.

The kid surprised Sans again when they befriended Undyne, somehow managing to see past her rugged overenthusiasm to the cuddly anime freak underneath. Well, as cuddly as a fish with spears could be, at least. Then they moved on to Alphys, walking her through her anxiety as she walked them through Hotland. They put on a show with Mettaton that had the entire underground cheering. They approached the judgement hall at a run.

At first, Sans and Papyrus had batted around the idea that they should both stand before the human when they arrived. It might be fitting, given all the events of the previous reset. The closer the time came for the human to arrive, however, the more nervous and twitchy Papyrus got. He was uncomfortable, haunted. Sans could almost see the bad memories playing back in Papyrus' head, flashbacks to times where he begged and pleaded and ultimately died. Sans knew the feeling, but he had to admit he had it better handled. Regret was something he was used to coping with, even if he didn't cope well.

"You don't have to do this with me bro," Sans said quietly, "This human's a good one. Nothing bad's going to happen to me while you're gone."

The two brothers exchanged a look, Papyrus smiling miserably.

"I'M SORRY."

"Don't be. Nothing about this place is nice," Sans cast a weary glance down the corridor, soaking in the golden hues the tall windows cast on the world, "There's more cheer to be found in a graveyard."

Papyrus nodded, his voice bitter, "THERE'S DEFINITELY BEEN A LOT OF DEATH HERE."

A silence passed between them.

"... honestly though, most of those deaths were the kid's," Sans said quietly, his gaze distant.

Everywhere he looked he could see it, vivid snapshots of times Chara was killed. Pinned to the pillars in the hall, skewered by bone attacks, crushed to death on the ceiling or floor from being harshly tossed around. Rendered into a burning, seething mass by gaster blasters. Blood draining from broken limbs until their soul was forced to shatter. And the inevitable hit that added whatever was left in Sans to the mess in the hall.

"WILL YOU BE ALRIGHT IF I LEAVE?" Papyrus asked, gazing down at his brother worriedly as he gave a shudder.

"I'll be fine," Sans said with a thick sigh, "You uh… go keep a lookout for Flowey for me, alright?"

Papyrus nodded and left.

Sans was alone again in the judgement hall. The last time he'd been here, Papyrus had been facing down Chara. Sans had barely saved him in time. Last time he was here, he'd sent them careening through a shortcut that had been mostly broken. Last time he was here, there'd been a lot less hope in the world and a lot more dust.

Sans sighed, willing away bitter thoughts and memories. He closed his eyes and counted his breaths.

_In. Stop._

There was a sound of footsteps somewhere in front of him.

_Out. Stop._

They hesitated as they entered, fearful of the long hall.

_In. Stop._

Maybe they were expecting Asgore to meet them.

_Out. Stop._

Maybe they remembered more than they let on about what had happened in the resets before.

_In. Stop._

They were coming closer now, pausing a few times to gaze at the columns and glass.

_Out. Stop._

They stopped.

Sans blinked at them, a calm smile on his face. He watched that face that so much was but wasn't Chara. The relieved smile that pulled across the child's lips and the bright light of hope in their eyes. They could almost make the Judgement Hall seem a little less… consuming. Sans tilted his head at them a bit, taking in just how different they were. There was a  _rightness_ about them that Sans wasn't used to. This was who the human really was outside of Chara. Outside of dust and despair.

"So you finally made it."

The human nodded back to him quietly,

"The end of your journey is at hand," Sans continued, "In a few moments, you will meet the king. Together… you will determine the future of this world."

This earned him a look of earnest, the child growing more serious in the face of the battle they would soon be facing. Sans shrugged.

"That's then. Now. You will be judged."

Yes. Judged. The one of very few things Sans was good at. And Sans continued, talking quietly and solemnly about the way their world worked. He rambled about execution points, levels of violence, the pain that the human could've caused and didn't. How killing forced you to stop caring, made you hurt less, made you cruel. He tried to hide the cold chill that crossed his soul as he talked, and ignored the way the human's expression became crestfallen.

Sans took a breath, paused, and then allowed his smile to become a little more genuine. He reminded the kid that, for once, they didn't gain any levels of violence. Reminded them that they had done something that he himself hadn't been able to do - they'd persevered throuhg the hardships the Underground had thrown at them without hurting or killing anyone. They never gave up. Their actions would make the whole world proud. If they could make Sans proud, it would cheer anyone he was sure.

As his speech came to a close, he noticed the human held themselves a little taller. They seemed happy, relieved. Determined. Sans wondered faintly if they'd ever make it past Asgore without killing him. He derailed the thought before it could start down a road he couldn't follow. The kid would do what needed to be done. Hopefully, that meant sparing the King as well.

A final thought struck Sans as he turned to leave, and he paused.

"Hey kid?"

The human blinked at him.

"Got a personal question for ya, if you think you can handle it for me," Sans said, stepping closer to the kid. They seemed a bit fearful, but they didn't move away.

"See there's someone I need to talk to," he continued, "Someone that might still be there, I don't know."

He peered down at the kid, stopping just a stride or two away from them.

"Chara?"

The human flinched at the name, hugging themselves quietly and settling their gaze between their shoes. Sans frowned slightly. They didn't look afraid, though he had expected them to be. After all, Chara had been possessing them right? No, it wasn't fear he was seeing. It was shame. They sighed and shuddered, and when they looked up at him again he recognized the slight offness that told him Chara had stepped forward. That untouchable difference he was sure he'd never fully understand.

Sans smirked, " _Knife_ to see you again, kid."

Chara rolled their eyes, though Sans saw a smile twitch at the corner of their mouth, "Not even carrying one. What do you want?"

Sans waved his inventory open, slipping the journal out and into an outstretched hand. He looked down at the little book, all the things it had been through and he along with it. Chara gazed down at it also, curious and hesitant all at once. Sans offered it to them.

"Woke up with this back in my inventory," Sans said with a shrug, "Gonna be honest here and say I never wanna see it again."

Chara took it from him, leafing through the pages without actually reading them.

"If you can read my handwriting, I guess you've earned the right to know what's inside," Sans chuckled, "There's some pages torn out. Don't ask about them because you don't need to know. And there's been a few more things added since you saw it the first time. I think you'll now what."

Sans shrugged again, "Papyrus already read it all, wrote a little himself too. And well… none of it's anything you don't already know. But I told you I'd give it to ya if we ever met here again. Happy miracle that is, right?"

Chara tucked the journal into their own inventory wordlessly, their mouth a hard line and emotions unreadable. Sans figured that was probably a good thing. He didn't need any sentimentality right now.

"Welp, I did what I came here to do," Sans stepped past Chara, hands in his pockets and smile lazy, "See ya around kid. Try not to dust anyone while I'm napping."

There was a shuffle behind him. He imaged Chara was trying to figure out something to tell him, but he didn't give the kid the chance. He stepped through a shortcut and was gone before another word could be said. The shortcut was erratic but controllable, and with a sigh of relief Sans disembarked just outside the Core where his brother was waiting.

"Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" Sans asked with a grin. Papyrus was slow to answer him, and Sans felt the beginnings of nervousness prickle down his spine.

"Bro?"

"I SPOKE WITH FLOWEY."

Sans blinked up at him, "... well you're not dust so that's promising."

Papyrus gave a halfhearted laugh at this, "HE WANTED TO KILL ME I THINK. BUT HE WAS TOO ANGRY AT CHARA FOR STOPPING HIS RUN TO BOTHER WITH ME."

Sans nodded.

"I MADE IT VERY CLEAR TO HIM THAT AS LONG AS THE HUMAN - AND CHARA - COULD RESET, IT WOULDN'T MATTER HOW HARD HE TRIED TO BREAK THE TIMELINE. THE HUMAN WOULD STOP HIM, OR RESET ANY PROGRESS HE MADE UNTIL HE GAVE UP. NO MATTER WHAT HE DECIDES TO DO NOW, VICTORY IS POINTLESS."

Papyrus sighed, his shoulders drooping a bit, "I ADMIT I'M DISAPPOINTED THAT HE COULDN'T CHANGE… AND THAT HE HAS TO WALLOW SO MISERABLY LIKE HE DOES. BUT THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT."

Sans shrugged at this, "Could kill him."

His brother frowned.

"Don't look at me like that," Sans said bitterly, "He's going to get bored again and start killing. Or try manipulating someone else to. And even if he doesn't do either of those things? He's still going to live out the rest of his life pining over the fact that he lost. And he's a sore loser. It'd be a mercy killing at this point."

"SANS," Papyrus huffed out a heavy sigh, "WE JUST PROMISED THIS MORNING WE WOULDN'T BE DOING ANYTHING ALONE, RIGHT?"

Sans nodded.

"DON'T GO WHERE I CAN'T FOLLOW."

Sans hunkered down a bit in his hoodie, making himself smaller. Uncomfortable.

"It's too much work anyway."

"I'M GLAD."

* * *

The remainder of the reset passed with the brothers entertaining Undyne as they waited for the barrier to be broken. Sans and Papyrus both noticed unmistakeable stutters in time shake them as they waited, and they exchanged knowing glances after every one. There was a less than happy ending, another reset, and a bright light. Much to Sans' surprise, the kid managed to break the barrier this time. He stepped into the sunlight with his brother, feeling lighter than he had in what had to have been years.

There was a threat in the air, the overhanging wonder at whether the kid would reset again. But it didn't hold the same dread as before. It wasn't clogged with the smell of dust or the sound of silence. Nor was it obscured by a crack in the sky.

That was all Sans could really hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooooooooooooooooo and there you have it folks! With a landslide of over 200 votes, mercy took the win! Over 70% of those mercy votes were asking for both endings, so sometime in the future I will have the fight ending up for your sadistic enjoyment you evil little things you!
> 
> Ahhh man I don't wanna write it though. I'm gonna be honest here guys, whent he bros hugged after they woke up, I cried. Cried writing it, cried rereading it. Actually reread it until it stopped making me cry. I dunno. They just really needed to be happy ahaha XD 8350+ words worth of happy ending. right thar.
> 
> Anwho! You may notice that this chapter has come early by a few hours! That's because I have a test tomorrow that I haven't studied for yet 8D I love you guys THAT MUCH. I'm gonna fail so hard holy shit. Anyway, I'm taking the rest of the night to study, so wish me luck. Cross your fingers I at least get a D. If I don't I'll prooooooooobably have to drop the class. I'm a fucking mess 8D
> 
> Ah well, enough of my rambling. This was a fun ride guys! I'm kinda sad it's (really close to being) done. Thanks for sticking around with me through weeks of pauses and way-too-hasty updates. Through terribly disguised plot holes and even more terrible spelling/grammer. And also thanks for the kind words and commitment. I honestly probably wouldn't have ever finished this without that. Damn. You guys rock!
> 
> Some explaination on Frisk:
> 
> I've been asked a LOT about Frisk and if they'd ever manifest and blablabla. As you can see, they finally did. But there wasn't much closure there so I'll explain myself a bit.
> 
> This story was never meant to be fully explained. I actually struggled with Flowey's dialogue in explaining his motives, because I don't believe in the villain monologue. The bad guy shouldn't HAVE to spill their guts, and realistically won't. When has anyone ever monologued to you about why they're being mean about anything before or after they've done it unless they're apologizing? To grab Undyne's own words: Why bother? YOU'RE GONNA BE DEAD IN 5 SECONDS ANYWAY! But I knew that there would be a lot of complaint if I didn't give that closure, and given how much of a villain I'd made Flowey into I knew it was needed, so I worked it in.
> 
> I essentially had the same view for Chara/Frisk. You don't NEED to know what happened to Frisk. You just need to know that at some point they sold their soul to Chara, and Chara took that and ran with it. While Frisk wasn't in control of their body, they might as well have never existed. They have no control. They're at the whims of someone else. Someone who's much more Determined at the moment. I personally headcanon Chara as the reason behind anyone being able to reset (think it's a funny coincidence that Chara died with Asriel, and Flowey could reset. And suddenly when Frisk appears, Chara is following them around adding flavor text and they can reset. Not to mention the fact that in a Geno run, Flowey points out Chara's Determination is WAY stronger than his. It's probably a flawed headcanon, but it's there nonetheless).
> 
> I admit I had fault in picking "Protagonist" as the tag instead of "The First Human", but at the time I made this I was a baby in the Undertale fandom and still figured Chara from the Genocide run and Frisk were essentionally the same person. So take that as you will.
> 
> Future Projects:
> 
> I've got 2 more larger stories in the works already, actually. One is an Alphys/Undyne fic called "In All My Dreams I Drown" (great working title I know right?). It's waaaaayyyyy in the conceptual stage as I've never written anything even remotely close to romance before, so that one won't be coming for awhile.
> 
> The second is a fic called "Casting Rain", and it's gonna be a Wartime!Grillby fic, because I so fell in love with that aspect of his character while I was writing it! I've got most of the outline for it blocked out, and am well on my way through the first chapter. I'm so excited eeeeee!
> 
> And lastly: If you guys ever wanna shoot me a fic idea, feel free! I'd totally love to write some of your cool ideas (you'll probably come up with some wayyyy better ones than me ahaha).
> 
> Thanks again for all your support! I appreciate it wholeheartedly and hope you enjoy what I write in the future! Thanks for struggling through this with me guys!


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you guys asked to see the bad end as well so... have the fight ending you sadistic edgelords!

_> Fight_

There was a long pause where Chara began steeling themselves for their next move. Sans could hardly breathe past the tenseness that had fallen on the air around them. He concentrated on his own strangled breaths and the fevered pitching of his soul, trying to ignore the inevitable. As Chara stormed towards him, his smile twitched. There was no hesitation in their footsteps. Sans could practically feel the Determination that they exuded. This was the end. They'd made their decision. Heh, they'd probably made their decision resets ago. It was only petty guilt that had ever made them hesitate. Whatever part of them that wasn't really Chara speaking up and stepping forward before the embittered soul could stamp them back down again.

_I'm going to die._

Funny. How many times had he thought that over the past resets? How many times had it been true? How many times hadn't it? It didn't matter now though. None of it mattered anymore. Sans begged his apathy to take over, to yank his fear away so he could at least face his demise with some semblance of resolve. He desperately tried not to be terrified. Desperately tried to gulp down his dread as it rose like bile where his throat should be. He wanted the kid to hurry up. Leaving him in suspense was killing him just as quickly as using his own magic against himself was.

 _It's going to hurt,_ he reminded himself shakily, _It's going to hurt and then you'll be gone._

Over the panicked ringing at the edge of his hearing Sans could hear Papyrus's voice yelling at Chara. Begging and pleading with the human to stop what they were doing and drop their weapon. Begging him to please _please_ spare his brother. Just this one time please! Sans wasn't going to kill them if they did. They had nothing to be afraid of, they had no reason to keep going like this. How cruel could they be, holding him there and making him watch like this? At least let him go so they could die together. He couldn't watch Sans die again he just _couldn't_. Take him first even, if they really must kill someone. Take him instead! Please just _don't do this Chara!_

Sans felt something in his chest constrict, and some cold emotion that made him uncomfortable curled about his insides in the same motion. The overwhelming weight of giving up was crushing down on him with a force even stronger than his own magic. He wished furiously that he wasn't here. That this wasn't his fate. And that Papyrus didn't have to sit back helplessly and watch.

When he opened his eyes, Chara was _so close_. Just steps away and closing. Sans looked to his brother, who had devolved into a mess of tears threaded with despair and bitter rage. Anger at his situation, at Chara, and at Sans for giving up. For letting this happen instead of trying to convince Chara to stop. Heh, didn't Papyrus get it by now? The only way Sans knew how to handle Chara was to kill them. This was as close to sparing as he'd ever get.

Sans wanted to say something, anything. Offer reassurance, or at least remind him that they wouldn't be separated for long. What could he do? Apologize? Say he loved his brother one last time? Or maybe he should just die quietly and get it over with. It would just be more painful in the long run if he stalled. Just like it had been this entire hopeless reset. If Chara had killed them in the judgement hall Sans never would have had to feel that crushing sensation of drowning, or the blinding fear of being flung through a broken shortcut. Papyrus never would have had to hear Sans' torture and Sans wouldn't have had to go through it. Grillby wouldn't have died hopeless and alone fighting Flowey. Sans and Papyrus wouldn't have had the time to feel close again just to be torn apart. They wouldn't have felt hope only to have it dashed.

Chara stopped before him, their face a mask of apathy. They blinked at his soul, having never seen it up close before. It shuddered and jittered under their gaze, showing Sans' fear in spite of the strict smile he kept plastered on his face. They gazed at it quietly, watching as the shudders it made refracted and bent the light across it in splitting hues of blue. Sans had to stifle the urge to snap his soul back where it belonged just so he didn't have to stand there while it was scrutinized.

"It's pretty," they said to him quietly.

Sans gave a derisive snort, "I never pinned you as the type to stall for time Chara. Having second thoughts?"

"Not unless you're in a hurry to die."

Sans gave a stiff shrug, feigning nonchalance but failing miserably. He was very obviously terrified, and rightly so. If Chara noticed, they ignored it.

"Nothing I say or do matters at this point," Sans narrowed his eye sockets at the kid, "Might as well get to the point."

Was that a pun? That _was_ a pun. Fancy that. He could still manage shitty humor when staring down death. He deserved a medal. Or at least a comedy award of some kind.

"You could fight."

Now _that_ was a laugh, now wasn't it? Sans supposed it was never too late to change his mind. After all, if you could decide at any time to change to work towards something good, it would only follow that the same could work for bad. He wondered idly if he dropped his magic now, if he'd be fast enough in tossing Chara away to escape that inevitable knife blow. If even with his exhausted magic he could rip himself and his brother away from Flowey and Chara one last time and give them a final chance. But he'd have to kill. He'd have to kill a lot.

Sans cast one last look towards Papyrus, a simple question written on his face. Asking permission. And his brother got it immediately. For a tense second he looked absolutely torn and desperate. He looked between Sans and Chara, struggling between hope and loss. He didn't want his brother to die. He didn't want anyone to die. He could never, ever see death as okay, as a permissible option. Now when Chara was clearly hesitating, clearly thinking about what they were doing and maybe even realizing it was wrong. But… if Chara decided to…

Papyrus let out a defeated sob-like sigh, his body going limp in Flowey's hold. For a second, it seemed the question would split his whole being apart. Sans noticed him give the most imperceptible shake of his head.

_Please. No._

When Chara moved, Sans didn't try to defend himself. He didn't try to dodge or hide his soul at the last minute. Chara flashed their knife forward, through the center of Sans' soul and more, pinning the shuddering thing to the center of his ruined jacket. The burst of pain he felt was dizzying, sickening. He felt the mess of magic he always lost bubbling up where his throat should be and around the wound like blood. Sans pitched forward weakly, barely able to grab Chara's shoulder before he managed to fall over completely. The kid stiffened in his grasp, and the blade gave a panicked wrench that sent Sans to his knees and ripped a pained cry from his throat. He dragged the kid with him, his and Chara's faces barely an inch apart.

"What, did I scare ya?" Sans asked with a miserable laugh as pins and needles shivered their way across his being. He could taste the spill of garbled, magical mess on his teeth as he talked. It tasted like death.

Chara opened their mouth to say something, only to shut it uselessly not a second later. The kid stared down at the knife as Sans began to crumble around it, trying very hard to look like they didn't care this was happening. Sans let the kid go, allowing himself to slump over into the snow. He stared down at his hands as they started crumbling away, choking painfully on every breath he breathed as he died. Sans envied the monsters who turned to dust in seconds. Envied how they were gone in an instant instead of the painful moments it took him to leave.

Through a haze of shuddering pain and dust Sans watched as Flowey dropped Papyrus, his brother collapsing to his knees on the ground with defeated shock. The two of them made eye contact, Papyrus mouthing the same words over and over again as Sans began shuddering apart, his dying magic staining the snow around him.

_I'm so sorry._

Papyrus was past the point of tears. Past the point of caring when Chara turned to approach him next. He just kept his eyes trained on Sans, on the brother he'd doomed by being too much of a bleeding heart to allow him to kill Chara. Trying desperately to tell him he was sorry everything had turned out this way, that Sans had been stuck with someone who hoped too much and fought a little too late. How he'd thought for sure Chara would do the right thing but had been so laughably wrong it was pathetic. How he'd thought anything would happen but this. Any scenario but the one where it was his fault his brother died again.

Sans did his best to give a reassuring smile back, though by now he'd stopped feeling just about everything. He wondered just how much of himself was even left to smile.

Papyrus was only obscured from his view for a moment when Chara stepped in between them, that vicious knife of theirs swinging down to tear across Papyrus' neck and shoulders with a force and intent that was much higher than the kid ever would've needed. Papyrus let out a sharp cry of pain. He clutched at the wound helplessly, trying to stifle the pain as it bloomed across his body and refracted across his bones as he turned to dust. Sans succumbed before him, weakly praying that whatever afterlife existed for them would be better than the hell they'd both lived through.

Papyrus watched his brother sift into nothingness against the snow, the breeze tugging about and scattering a few of the particles of dust around the cliffside in something that might have been beautiful if it weren't a corpse. He wanted to cry. He wanted to crawl over to what was left of his brother's ruined hoodie and hug it close until he no longer existed. But he had no strength to move and, he realized more slowly, his body was too broken up now for moving to be much good. Papyrus collapsed the rest of the way into the snow, sighing as the sting of pins and needles faded him away into nothing. Watching as Chara walked back across the bridge instead of waiting for him to die.

* * *

If both the brothers had been alive to see it, they would have watched Chara continue in a dust-covered daze to finally face Asgore and kill him with their sheer force of intent alone. They would have seen the kid continue like they had for reset after reset, destroying the timeline for the final time and breaking it apart. The rift split the sky with black, any monsters that had evacuated with Alphys watched in horror as their world dissolved into bits of code and ash before they too were consumed by it.

Chara and Flowey were thrown somewhere outside of time and space for a moment, a void covered in endless possibilities and timelines. And in that same instant they were dragged back in again. This world was darker. The earth smelled of bitter dust and decay. Flowey shook out his ruffled petals, coughing on the damp air. He looked around, frowning slightly when he realized he was in the Ruins.

"Chara?" he called, glancing around the vast empty space. There was no human around to answer him, though he could feel a tired presence around him.

_Let me rest._

"What? No way!" Flowey said with a snarl, "Let's keep our momentum going!"

_I'm a disembodied soul. I'm useless without a vessel._

Flowey gave a bitter grumble, admitting defeat in this one aspect at least.

_I'm tired, Asriel._

"What, you really gonna let those two sappy boneheads get to you Chara?" Flowey gave a high-pitched laugh, shuddering the air around him, "Rest up, clear your head a little. It'll be all worth it in the end, you'll see."

He was met with silence, and he shrugged it off. It was time to explore this new world he'd worked so hard for. Let Chara pout in the corner until the next human fell down. It wouldn't matter in the end. The timeline would crack eventually. Chara had already proven once they wanted this. It would be a simple thing to keep them going now. After everything they'd done, their guilt alone wouldn't allow them to turn back.

Someday soon this world would splinter into nothing but dust and ash. That was all Flowey could ever hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is strangely short compaired to the good ending... mostly because it involves much less exposition and much more... death.
> 
> I hope you guys like the sour taste in your mouth that this gives you! If it gives you that. It gave me that thing yes that thing.
> 
> I batted around several ideas with how I thought this should go down. Some of them involved a lot of drama, possible suicides, Papyrus turning into the harbinger of death and destruction... the list goes on. But at the end of the day, Sans had already given up and the way I wrote Papyrus in this, I doubted he would ever kill anyone on purpose.
> 
> Plus I didn't want this to be a satisfying ending. You want full resolution, character development, trying all the loose ends together and much much more? You do the right thing and show some mercy. In the words of Sans from Chapter 32:
> 
> "So uh… since you're so determined to finish this in the absolute worst way possible, I won't stop ya."
> 
> I'm still not too completely satisfied with how this is written, and might change it a bit in the future if it makes me lose sleep at night (I'll be sure to add a note at the beginning that it's been edited). But if it doesn't! Thanks once again for going on this wild ride with me guys! We've reached the (final) end and Phantom Pains is officially concluded! You know, this is the first story I've ever finished? Like outside of shorts and things. I feel really accomplished. And proud.


End file.
